Save Me
by ebmordecai
Summary: Emma Forester needs a savior.  What she doesn't realize is she will find it in the most unlikeliest of people.  The only question is whether it will be enough to save them both! AU
1. Prologue

"Do it! Strike me down and kill me!" Connelly whispered with a crazed smile.

Emma's hand shook, the wand pointing straight at Connelly's chest. Blood oozed from her mouth, but she dared not wipe it away. She kept her whole attention on the man in front of her. The past months flew through her mind like a movie reel. All of the things this monster had done to her, every single blow and horrible violation built within her mind.

"You have enough hate within you to say the words. Just two simple words, Emma…"

Yes, she did have enough hate in her, the words danced on the end of her tongue. She knew the consequences of what would happen if she proceeded. Tears filled her eyes, blinding her vision.

"I know who you truly are! The Dark Lord will be so proud of my choice," Connelly whispered.

He stretched his arms out, taking a step towards Emma. On instinct, she stepped back, her hand shaking harder.

"He's not going to save you Emma!"

At his words, the hand holding the wand fell an inch. A pain, that which she had never felt before, hit her dead in the heart. _He _had abandoned her, leaving her here with a monster. Connelly was right, there would be no savior coming to her rescue.

"Severus Snape is a Death Eater, always has been and always will be!" Connelly said with a laugh.

The last bit of resolve Emma had all but died within her. Yes, she knew who Snape was and had seen it first hand. He had betrayed the ones that he swore to protect and at the same time, he ripped her heart out.

The hand holding her wand finally came to rest at her side, a sob spilling forth from her mouth. Emma felt Connelly come to stand in front of her, but she couldn't make herself care anymore. The wand was snatched from her hand.

"Crucio!" Connelly yelled.

It was the last words Emma heard before her mind was overtaken with unspeakable pain.

**Okay people, this is my first attempt at a Harry Potter story! It will be based around my FAVORITE character, Severus Snape! It will be long and have much angst, but it will be worth it...I hope! lol. Anyway, this is just a start and I will have more coming very soon. Please review and tell me what you think. Thanks!  
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	2. A New School Year

**Disclaimer: Everything that you see that relates to Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling. I am not making any profit off of this story and am just doing it for fun, because I'm not as smart as this woman and didn't have the idea of the Harry Potter world before her! **

Alone  
>From childhood's hour I have not been<br>As others were; I have not seen  
>As others saw; I could not bring<br>My passions from a common spring.  
>From the same source I have not taken<br>My sorrow; I could not awaken  
>My heart to joy at the same tone;<br>And all I loved, I loved alone.  
>Then- in my childhood, in the dawn<br>Of a most stormy life- was drawn  
>From every depth of good and ill<br>The mystery which binds me still:  
>From the torrent, or the fountain,<br>From the red cliff of the mountain,  
>From the sun that round me rolled<br>In its autumn tint of gold,  
>From the lightning in the sky<br>As it passed me flying by,  
>From the thunder and the storm,<br>And the cloud that took the form  
>(When the rest of Heaven was blue)<br>Of a demon in my view.  
>-Edgar Allen Poe <p>

Hidden, that was how Emma Forrester liked to be. She wanted nothing more than to blend in with the crowd, to be unseen. Throughout her life, she had always felt that way. She left the showing out and being center of attention to others. Maybe that was why she found herself in her sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry without a single person to call friend. Sure, she had acquaintances, almost all of them in her house, but other than that, she did not know the people that surrounded her. The sad part, she found, was that she was okay with it being that way. Emma had once heard a girl from the House of Gryffindor call her the invisible Slytherin girl.

The House of Slytherin, the most hated house at Hogwarts, became the perfect fit for Emma. She was stereotyped with the rest, thus making the other students stay away from her. As for the students in her own house, they knew of her, but that was all. She kept her distance, only reaching out to them when the need arose. Some called her snobbish, but if they truly knew who she was, they would realize that it went deeper than that.

Emma was an orphan, laid on the doorstep of Cambridge Orphanage when she was only six months old. There was no note, nothing to state who she was or where she came from. The years after that, up until she came to Hogwarts, were filled with being alone. The orphanage had been good to her, she couldn't deny it. They always accepted her back during the months away from Hogwarts, no questions asked. Never, in all of those years, had she felt sorry for herself. Though she was dealt a blow in life, she reminded herself that there were people out there that had it tougher.

It was the first night of a new school year and Emma sat amongst the Slytherin students, all of whom talked excitedly to one another. Ever so often, they would include Emma and she would answer in a low voice. After a while, they grew tired of having to strain to hear her and that would be the end of her involvement in the discussions.

Silence fell across the Great Hall as Head Master Albus Dumbledore stood before the students, his gleaming eyes looking out at them over half-moon glasses. Emma expected the same speech year end and year out, but this year it had an edge to it. This year was different and everyone present knew why. The Dark Lord had risen and his whereabouts were unknown. Dark times were ahead for all of them, but to live in fear was giving the Dark Lord exactly what he wanted. Emma knew Dumbledore would not let that happen to his students. He would make sure this year would go just like every year before, every year when the threat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was only a scary story.

Emma was so deep in thought that she almost missed the introduction of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. There was a sudden murmur throughout the student body as a man stood and slightly waved. Each year, no matter who took the position, they only lasted the year. Emma couldn't help but wonder how long this new teacher would last.

As the man took his seat, Emma's eyes roamed to the man sitting next to the new teacher. Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin and Potions Master had wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts position for as long as he had been teaching at Hogwarts. It was no secret to any of the students, but Dumbledore never gave it to him. Emma could only imagine that Dumbledore had his reasons.

Snape's face was seething, his eyes black orbs of fury. She was glad that she wouldn't be starting his potions class until the next day. If he had to teach tonight, no student would be safe from his wrath, whether they be Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw.

The opening ceremonies came to an end and the students began filing out of the Great Hall. It was late and most were tired from the long journey. Emma, on the other hand, was wide awake. Throughout her years at Hogwarts, she had various places to call her own. Rooms here and there became her safe haven away from the others where she could just sit and read or do whatever she felt. She had found the Astronomy Tower in particular to be her most cherished spot and she longed to be there now. Seeing as it was lights out in a few moments, she couldn't risk getting caught sneaking out on her first night back. Snape, in his furious state, would kill her for sure.

Emma decided the Astronomy Tower could wait until tomorrow. She followed the other Slytherin students to their respective part of the school. Out of the four houses, their walk was the longest seeing as the Slytherin quarters were at the very back of the school.

Emma walked behind the rest, bringing up the rear of the line. She looked around her, noticing the portraits. It never ceased to amaze her that these simple things came alive. Some looked out at her with skeptical looks, but most paid her no mind. She wondered for a brief second if they were just as amazed with her world as she was of theirs.

One particular portrait caught her eye and she couldn't help but walk to it. It was a thing of beauty, stretching the length of her person. It showed a girl standing before a window looking out, the world shaded in black. Above the girl's head hung a round, full moon. The girl's back remained a constant sight to all that past. She never turned around, never looked out at the roaming eyes. Her eyes stayed on the night before her, as if searching for something.

"What are you looking for," Emma whispered.

The girl in the portrait began to hum softly, as if she didn't hear Emma's question. Maybe she didn't. Emma had no clue why she loved the portrait so much. Maybe it was because she could relate to the girl somehow. She felt the girl was alone, constantly inside looking out, hoping for something that was just out of her reach.

Before Emma knew it, she was alone in the hallway, her eyes still staring at the girl's back. It was as if she was entranced, waiting to see if something would appear by the girl's window. The humming continued, it's sound soft and slow. Emma was lost in it's rhythm, unaware of someone coming up behind her.

"And what, may I ask, are you doing still out here?"

Emma jumped at the low, angered voice coming directly behind her. Even the girl in the portrait stopped humming, aware of a new presence. Emma took a deep breath, knowing all too well who the voice belonged to. She turned slowly, coming face to face with her angered Head of House. He watched her without speaking for several moments, making the tension rise. Emma forced herself to look at him, his eyes boring into her own.

"J-Just admiring the portrait, s-sir," Emma staggered.

Snape's famous sneer made an appearance. He looked at her as if she were a bug to be squashed under his shoe. Emma inwardly groaned as she flinched. He had made a reputation of being a very difficult and cruel teacher. Usually, he wasn't has hard on his own students as he was the other houses, but Emma reminded herself that he was more furious tonight than usual. She swallowed, realizing she was directly in his path on the worse night possible.

"Admiring the portrait?" he drawled in his deadly voice.

Emma nodded her head in response. Her words dying in her throat.

"I suggest you admire the portrait in the daytime and not when you are expected to be in your quarters, do I make my self clear Miss Forrester?" Snape said.

"Very," Emma croaked.

Without another word, Snape jerked his head in the direction of the Slytherin staircase. Emma understood perfectly and rushed towards the stairs. Half way there, she abruptly stopped, gasping as she realized a grave mistake, one that would force her to have to turn and face Snape.

"The password is ripple, Miss Forrester. If you would have stayed with the others, you would have known this as your prefect would have given it to you upon arrival at the Slytherin portrait," Snape hissed before she could turn around to ask.

It was all she needed to hear as she rushed up the stairs and said the password to enter the Slytherin common room. Thankfully, no one was around to see her worried face. Once the door behind her closed, Emma let out a deep breath, leaning her head against the hard wood. Now that she had time to think about it, that must have been the most Snape had ever said to her. She chuckled slightly, knowing that wasn't the most favorable way to get him to speak to her.

Climbing up to her room she shared with three of the sixth year girls, Emma felt the fatigue set in. In minutes, she was undressed and settled into her bed. As the minutes passed, she stared into the darkness, silence fell upon her like a blanket. Tomorrow would start her first full day of classes and it did not slip by her that she had double potions. As the last of her strength faded away, she hoped and prayed that Snape would be in a somewhat better mood, but she reminded herself exactly who she was talking about. Snape and better mood did not fit into the same sentence.

The next morning came too soon. Already, the students were up and about. There was a mixture of excitement and dread running throughout the school.

Emma was the last to rise, her roommates were already headed to the Great Hall for breakfast. She showered and put on her school uniform. She took her time buttoning the white shirt, her mind deep in thought. She took the green and black tie, Slytherin's house colors, and slipped it around her neck. She found it rather odd that they made the girls wear ties also. Her black skirt and stockings were in place, her shoes lying beside the bed for her.

She stood before the mirror inspecting herself. Her long, black hair was still wet from the shower and she decided to put it in a loose bun, allowing some of the long strands to fall around her face. She was actually a very pretty girl, but no one ever got close to really notice. Before she allowed herself to dwell more on that, she grabbed her black robe and books and headed for the Great Hall. Every time her mind began to wonder about what it would be like to be close to someone, Emma would squash that thought immediately. It was better to be alone than to rely on someone, only for them to betray you in the end.

Breakfast was already fast away when Emma showed up to the Great Hall. She took her usual seat at the end of the Slytherin table. She settled on buttered toast, a scrambled egg and a grape fruit. Breakfast was never her favorite meal and at the orphanage, she usually never ate in the mornings.

Her eyes began to roam over the hall, looking at all the House tables. Most everyone was all smiles, except for some of the first years that still looked overwhelmed by it all. Emma remembered her first time at Hogwarts. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before and it could be a little overwhelming. As usual, at her own table, Draco Malfoy was the center of attention. He, like herself, was a sixth year. He was an arrogant little snot and the only ones who really liked him was the students in his own House, except one. Emma and Draco had had a run in with one another their second week at Hogwarts. You would have thought by the end of it Emma was an Gryffindor in his eyes. Ever since that day, he had barely looked at her, which made the rest of Slytherin House ignore her as well. Luckily, Emma didn't mind at all.

Her eyes traveled to the teacher's table and she let out a small gasp. Someone was watching her, their eyes staring straight into her. They were deep, black orbs and it seemed no light could be found inside them. They didn't look as furious as they did last night, but the intensity was still there. Emma swallowed down the piece of buttered toast in her mouth, the process was found to be harder than it should have. She wanted to melt into the table, anything to get those eyes to look away from her. It was as if they had their own power. As if Snape heard her plea, he turned his head, falling into conversation with Professor Dumbledore. Emma got control of her pounding heart and shook her head to clear her nerves. Luckily, it was the end of breakfast and she wasted no time standing to her feet and walking to her first class, anything to get away from those eyes.

Her schedule was brutal, but this was the year of the N.E.W.T.. Emma was past the kiddy stuff, adulthood loomed in her future. She would start out in Transfiguration and then Herbology. Next would be lunch, then Charms, Double Potions and she would end with Defense Against the Dark Arts. Just thinking about it made Emma's head hurt. It was going to be a long year indeed.

The day passed without incident, which was just fine with Emma. She ate lunch in the Astronomy Tower, sneaking in when no one was looking. The view was breathtaking and from there, Emma could see the whole of Hogwarts. It was at theses times that she felt most at peace. Charms was entertaining as usual but passed too soon. Emma knew what class was next and on top of it all, it was a double class.

Stilling her nerves, Emma walked down to the dungeon, feeling the coldness bite at her skin. It was as if stepping into another world, from the warmth of the halls to the frigid dungeon that Snape called home.

The door was standing open, giving the sign to the students that they could enter.

Snape was standing at his desk, his back turned to Emma as she entered. As quietly as she could, she walked towards the very back of the room, grabbing a chair to slide it silently back.

"Why is it that in the past twenty-four hours my sentences have started with a question of what are you doing?"

Emma froze, her hand resting on the back of the chair. She turned her head slowly towards Snape. He had turned towards her, again those eyes stared intently at her.

"Well?" he said, his eyebrows rising ever so slightly. "What are you doing, Miss Forrester?"

Emma looked around, as if the answer to his question was somewhere other than her head.

"What am I doing sir?" she asked softly.

Snape rolled his eyes, taking a few steps towards a table in the front of the class. Emma watched him grab a chair and pull it out, the sound bouncing off the cold, dark walls surrounding the room. He turned back to her not saying a word, as if she should know what his actions meant.

"I expect Gryffindors to sit in the back of my class but not Slytherins."

Emma sighed, grabbing her books and walking towards where Snape had pulled the chair out. She hated sitting in the front, no matter the class. She preferred the back and out of eyesight from everyone. Now, here she was being made to sit in the front, close to Snape and being seen by everyone. He never cared where she sat before. Why now? For a fraction of a second, she almost let the question slip out, but thought it better to just keep quiet. Snape looked in no mood to be answering any type of questions.

"That's better," he said quietly, turning to go back to his desk.

Soon, the classroom was filled with students and the lesson was underway. Luckily for Emma, Snape did not seem to notice her again. He walked around the room, his robes bellowing out before him. Emma was aware of the sound it made.

It didn't matter that it was the first day of class, Snape had them already producing a sleeping potion. Thankfully, Emma found it somewhat easy. She had always enjoyed potions, though her teacher left something to be desired. She didn't struggle with it like some of her other classes. To her, somehow potions came easy.

She was just about to drop the poppy seed into the cauldron when there was a loud bang behind her making her jump and almost lose control of her ingredients. Emma turned, wide eyed, as she stared directly at Snape's back. His hands were stretched out on the desk in front of a very scared looking Neville Longbottom. The poor kid looked as though he had just been attacked by a Dementor.

"How many years is it going to take you to get something right in my class, Mr. Longbottom? You would think that you could make a simple Sleeping Potion!"

Snape's voice was a dangerous whisper and Emma could do nothing but feel bad for Neville. She didn't know him that well, but what she did know of him was nothing but good. He seemed like a good kid, never in trouble unless Snape felt like being a bully and right now, he felt like it.

"Get…it…right," he drawled.

Beside her, Emma heard snickering and turned to see Draco and his goons almost busting at the seams. It wasn't the first time in her years at Hogwarts that she wondered why in the world the Sorting Hat had put her in the House with a bunch of asses. Draco turned in her direction, his smile turning into a sneer. Emma rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to the Sleeping Potion. It was the only interruption for the entire rest of the class.

Finally, the class was over and as Snape came by to inspect her final result, Emma wanted nothing but to get away from him. It could have been just her imagination, but it seemed that he was taking a little longer with her potion that the others. She looked around seeing that most of the students had left. She wondered if she should stand and gather her things, thinking that would make Snape give her a final grade.

"Not bad. It could be somewhat better, but it is definitely the best in class."

She stared at her Potions Master as if he had grown two heads. Was this not the same man that hours before had seemed furious with her on two different occasions? Now, he was paying her work a compliment.

"T-thank you, sir," she said quietly.

He raised his eyes from the cauldron to Emma. Some of the anger was gone, but not enough. Maybe he always looked that way, for she could never remember a time that she saw him look happy or smile. Maybe that was his look for every emotion. The seconds ticked by, neither saying a word. Emma was well aware that her next class would be starting soon and if she didn't leave, she would be late. Not a good thing to be on the first day of school.

"Yes, well, you can do better I'm sure," he sneered.

Inside, Emma sighed. There was the Snape everyone knew and loved. He gave a compliment and in the very next breath, he took it away. She considered herself lucky, she could have been on the receiving end of his anger during class and not Neville. Emma would take what she could get.

"Of course, sir," she said.

Without another word, Snape turned and walked towards a small door in the back of the class. It was Emma's cue that she was dismissed and she didn't wait around another second. She grabbed her books and all but ran out of the room and up the stairs to the warm side of the school. The halls were beginning to thin, as the students found their next classes and Emma had to hurry. She only had seconds before she was late.

She caught the door just as it was closing and made her way into the classroom. She said a prayer of thanks as the last chair in the back was still open. Looking around, she noticed that most of the students that was in her potions class was also in this one, including Malfoy and his goons. Thankfully, she was sitting far away from them. Neville was also here, talking quietly to a student from Ravenclaw House. He looked in much better shape than he did in Snape's class.

A man walked in, his long strides and tall shoulders made him look confident. He was tall, maybe six feet, as tall as Snape but an inch or two shorter give or take. He reached his desk, keeping his back to the students for a moment. Emma wondered if that was teacher thing, keeping your backs to your students. She had noticed that all the teachers had done this today.

He slowly turned towards his class. He was the newest member of the Hogwarts teaching staff. Emma watched him, guessing he was in his late thirties. On the top of his head said a thick mane of light brown hair. His eyes stood out from his tanned skin. They were the color of light blue, almost transparent. He was not bad looking to the eyes, but something didn't settle right with Emma. She spent several moments staring, trying to figure out what was bothering her.

"Good afternoon students. I am aware that this is the last class and most of you are rather worn out. I will try to keep today light, but know this, this class will be one of the most important of your young lives. I am well aware of the past few teachers and the so called curse on this position. Rest assured, I am here to stay," he finished with a short laugh.

Some of the students smiled, some rolled their eyes. Emma continued to stare, the bothersome feeling growing by the minute.

"I would like to welcome each of you sixth years to Defense Against the Dark Arts, my name is Alarick Connelly and I will teach you much this year."

And then it hit her, it was the smile. Emma felt the hairs on the back of her head stand as she realized what it reminded her of. It was as if a serpent stood before her, it's teeth bared and ready to strike. The thought died in her head when she realized those transparent, blue eyes were staring directly at her.

**Alrighty, here is the first chapter. As the story goes along you will learn more about Emma and her life. I hate writing the first chapters of my story! I have several chapters already written but they come in the middle! It took me three tries to start this chapter…lol! I will try to have the next chapter up by tomorrow or the next day. Thanks **


	3. And So It Begins

**Disclaimer: As I said before…I don't own Harry Potter or anyone from his world! It sucks, I know! **

The sun had not yet fully risen in the distance. It cast it's red and orange haze over Hogwarts. The first week of school had come and gone in a flurry of essays, papers and tests. The students felt a weight beginning to fall upon them. It was for this reason, when the weekend finally arrived, there was an audible sigh throughout the school. It was time to relax, at least for the day.

Emma sat on her bed, quietly tying her shoelaces. Gone were her Slytherin uniform and robes. In its place she wore dark green jogging pants with a matching dark green sweatshirt. Her long hair was worn in its usual loose ponytail. All around her, the girls slept peacefully. Not a sound could be heard in the Slytherin quarters. Everyone, except for one, was sound asleep.

As quietly as she could, Emma walked down the stairs into the common room. It was blanketed in darkness, but Emma had spent years inside the room and knew her way around freely. She walked quietly around the black couch and briefly looked at the fireplace. The fire that had burned there the night before was mere ashes. It allowed the chilly air to seep into the room. It was enough to wake Emma up completely.

In the hallway, not a soul could be seen. It seemed as though the whole of Hogwarts were still sleeping the early Saturday morning away. It was all as well to Emma. This part of the morning was for her and her alone.

She patted her pants pocket to make sure her earphones were still in place. As soon as she felt them, she began her walk to the back of the grounds. The orange and red glow of the rising sun flowed through the large windows, casting eerie shadows upon the walls. Emma watched them dance on the stoned surface as she passed them by.

Outside, the chilly air caressed her face and for a moment, she closed her eyes, relishing in its soft touch. She grabbed her earphones and placed them in her ears. She found her song and her feet began to move. Her arms began to pump at her side, her body moving in a slow jog. For a moment, in the earliest part of the day, Emma felt completely free. Everything around began to melt and her only thought was the warmth of the sun and the coolness of the air.

The grounds of Hogwarts stretched as wide as the eyes could see. There was plenty of room for Emma to jog. She had created her own little path around the school. It took her from the Quidditch field, around Hagrid's hut, out into the open space underneath the shadow of the school and ended at the foot of the Forbidden Forrest. Looking out around her, she felt sorry for the people inside sleeping. How many of them really knew the beauty that surrounded them? How many of them cared?

Emma passed the Quidditch field. It reached towards the Heavens above. Emma looked up and just for a moment, she wished she had the talent to play. She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. What a mess she would make if she even attempted to grab a broom and head out onto that field. No, she didn't have the talent and was no Harry Potter when it came to that sport. Her place was in the stands watching the game.

She jogged towards Hagrid's hut, leaving the field behind her. To her surprise, Hagrid was outside in his garden. His back was turned to her, but he must have heard her coming. He turned, his eyes showing alarm. As soon as he noticed Emma, he relaxed, giving her a warm smile and wave. Emma met his smile with one of her own and sent him a short wave. At least one other person besides her was up enjoying the beautiful morning.

"Hello there, Miss Forrester! At it again I see!" he called out to her.

Emma slowed as she spoke, "Yes sir. I thought I would let out some stress from the first week."

Hagrid let out a hardy laugh. His belly shook with his effort. Emma liked him a lot, though she had not spent much time with him. He preferred spending his time with three Gryffindors in particular, but she couldn't blame him. After all, she was Slytherin, but he was always nice to her.

"Don't let it get to ya! Stay focused and you'll be just fine!"

Emma smiled, nodding her head in agreement. "See you around, Hagrid!"

With one final wave, Hagrid turned back to his garden and Emma proceeded towards the school. Before her was a vast area. Hagrid, during his time of Keeper of the Keys and Grounds, had done a fabulous job making it look beautiful. The grass was immaculate, rivaling the beauty of the school itself. The school's large shadow fell upon Emma. As the sun was shaded, she was able to raise her eyes all the way from ground to the tallest peak. Still, to this day, she was overcome by its enormity and charm.

Soon, she was headed straight for the Forbidden Forest. The large, dark trees reached out before her. It was if the sun could not penetrate past them. To look inside, one would think night had fallen. A part of Emma felt it wasn't just the trees blocking the light. Something about the forest spoke of darkness. The students were strictly forbidden to enter unless accompanied by a teacher and even then, they would only advance a few yards in, except, of course, for Hagrid.

Emma slowed her jog, coming to a complete stop. There was a wide berth between her and the opening to the forest. A part of her challenged to step forward. She wondered what it would be like to enter, to take a long walk inside. Her heart began to pound as one foot stepped forward. It was as if she were entranced, as if something was pulling her in. Another step and then another, she found herself able to reach out and feel the bark of the first tree. Its texture felt cool and rough to the touch.

"Well, Hello Miss Forrester. What a pleasant surprise seeing you out here this early morning!"

Emma jumped at the sound of someone speaking behind her. She stumbled forward, turning to see who was there. Professor Connelly stood before her, dressed in black pants and a tee shirt. His brown hair blew away from his forehead in the breeze. He was smiling broadly at her and again she was reminded of a serpent.

"I don't think this is such a good place for a jog, Miss Forrester," he said, his eyes roaming the darkness of the forest.

While his attention was on other things, it gave Emma a chance to take a step to her left and towards the school. As if he saw her, he matched her step and again he stood in her path.

"I'm surprised that you're not taking this day to rest like the others. It is Saturday you know!" he said with a chuckle.

Emma couldn't figure out why she felt so jumpy around the new Dark Arts teacher, but since that first day, she had felt uncomfortable being in his presence. This day was no different. At first, she had just shrugged it off as maybe it had something to do with all the other teachers that had taken the position. Something had been off about all of them, so it was only natural that Professor Connelly would show his true colors sooner or later. On the outside, he seemed nothing but nice and caring. He really took an interest in making sure his students understood what they needed to know in his class. He had been nothing but good to her and the rest of the students.

"I-I enjoy a jog in the mornings. It's a way to relieve some stress," she said, giving him the same line that she had Hagrid earlier. It was the truth.

He shook his head, "Yes, I can understand how much stress could surround a new school year. Take me for example, I'm new here and I start out with Defense Against the Dark Arts. I'm asking for trouble aren't I?"

Emma gave the man a small smile. Some of the unease melted as he showed her that stress hit more than just the students. Maybe she should give him a chance and not let his position affect her so much. Not every teacher that accepted that position had to have skeletons in the closet.

"May I join you?" Professor Connelly asked.

"Well, I was just about to head back to the school," she responded.

"That's fine. I'll walk you back."

With that, they proceeded back towards Hogwarts. For the first few seconds, silence filled the space between them. All the while, a battle was waging in Emma's head. She still felt unease, but a part of her screamed that she was being unfair. Professor Connelly had done nothing to warrant her mistrust. So, why then did she feel it?

"I imagine your parents miss you while you're away? Did they attend Hogwarts as well?"

All thoughts of mistrust left her mind, being replaced by pain. She had never talked about her parents to anyone except Professor Dumbledore. No one at Hogwarts had ever taken the time to ask her about them, until now.

"M-My parents died when I was a baby," she said quietly.

She saw Connelly's head turn slightly towards her, but she didn't look to meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I did not know. I would have never brought it up."

She finally looked over at him, his eyes showing his sympathy.

"It's okay. I was too young to remember them."

Again, silence fell around them. Connelly looked away from her, his eyes looking before him. Emma mirrored him, finding a part of the school particularly interesting at that moment. She needed to find something to take her mind off the pain of her parents' death.

"You have no family?"

Emma was taken aback by the question. Not in her six years at Hogwarts had anyone, including the teachers, asked her many questions about herself.

"No," she stated simply.

Beside her, Connelly began to slow his walk until soon he stopped all together. Emma walked a few paces ahead until she too stopped. He was watching her closely, his face unreadable. She began to feel uncomfortable under his stare.

"You must be very mature for your age. It's not many sixteen year olds that can face what you have and still have a good head on their shoulders," he said softly.

He thought she was sixteen, but why wouldn't he? Everyone here did. There was only one that knew the truth and that was Dumbledore. Emma saw no reason not to let Connelly know as well, besides, he was the first one to take a moment to know her.

"Eighteen. I'm e-eighteen," she said in a shy voice.

"Eighteen?" he asked somewhat surprised. "I don't understand. You're a sixth year."

Emma nodded her head. The look on his face was the reason she never told anyone. She knew exactly what he was thinking. He thought she had failed two years, or maybe was held back for some reason. It wasn't the case at all.

"I don't know how to explain it, neither does Professor Dumbledore. It seemed my abilities lay dormant for longer than most. I was thirteen when they manifested not eleven. When Professor Dumbledore found me, we discussed placing me in the right year, but I didn't know a thing and it would do more harm than good. So…" Emma drifted off.

There was something in Connelly's eyes Emma couldn't quite read. Again, she felt her nerves prickle her skin and wished she wouldn't have told him so much.

"Very interesting. I imagine you are full of surprises, Miss Forrester."

They were at the entrance of the school and Emma wanted nothing but to enter. Connelly was still staring at her with those eyes of his, something hidden within them.

"Well, I guess I better go now. Thanks for walking me back," Emma said as she turned to walk inside.

"Miss Forrester, one other thing," Connelly said before Emma could turn the corner to get out of sight. She halted, turning sideways to look at him. His smile was back, the serpent's smile.

"What was the name of the orphanage where you grew up?"

Emma's forehead creased in confusion. She had no idea why he asked her such a thing. She heard a voice in her head screaming at her to keep walking. Instead, before she could stop herself, she answered his question.

"Cambridge Orphanage."

The light that turned on inside his transparent, blue eyes was not lost on her. She saw it and a chill went down her spine.

Emma turned, not saying another word and not letting Connelly ask her anything more. This time, she listened to the voice in her head and got as far away from him as she could. There were conflicting emotions inside. A part of her was screaming dangerous while another part was screaming harmless. It was just another reminder why she never opened up to anyone.

It was still early in the morning and Emma went straight for the showers. She decided to use the public showers instead of the one in her room. She didn't want to wake her roommates if they were still asleep. The Slytherin showers were directly across from the stairs leading to the common room. To her relief, they were empty.

She stepped underneath the hot water, allowing it to wash away the sweat. It felt marvelous and refreshing. Emma leaned against the wall, the cool surface doing wonders for her skin compared to the hot of the water. The two sensations together worked to ease her weary muscles. The water ran down her body, taking with it the unease that Connelly had caused. Soon, all that was left was calm.

Today was for relaxation. Even though she had a paper due in Transfiguration and an essay due for Potions, Emma wanted to just relax. It was easier said than done though. She knew that to wait would only cause her more stress by tomorrow night. If she got it done as early as possible, that weight could be lifted from her. While the others stayed up stressing on Sunday night, she could sleep easy knowing everything was done.

Soon, the hot water had turned cold. It was a sign to Emma that it was time to get out. With a soft groan, she turned the water off and stepped out into the foggy bathroom. Minutes later, she was dried off and dressed in blue jeans and a purple long-sleeve shirt. Water still fell from the ends of her long hair as she wrapped it in the towel.

Emma walked to the mirror and wiped the fog away, revealing her reflection looking back at her. She could see how people didn't see her for the adult that she was. Her face was round and child-like and underneath the robes and uniforms, her less child-like body couldn't really be seen. Besides, no one looked at her for more than five second anyway. Her hazel eyes stared out. She wondered if she had her mother's eyes, or maybe her father's.

When the pain reared its ugly head, Emma knew it was time to go. She didn't feel sorry for herself, but having to answer Connelly's questions today only reminded her of what she didn't have…her parents. Maybe if she knew what her final days with them had been like, it would give her something good to hold on to when she thought of them. What she knew, though, was nothing at all.

The door to the showers opened with a bang and Emma jumped. Looking over at the door, she saw a third year Slytherin walk in. The girl stared at her for a minute and then disappeared into one of the stalls without a word. Emma turned back to her reflection, shaking her head.

Finally settled in the Astronomy Tower, Emma began her homework. She started with the easiest, which was Snape's essay. He had given them the job of explaining what a Jobbernoll was and what its uses were. Luckily, Emma already knew what a Jobbernoll was and began writing her essay. As much as she tried, she couldn't stop from drawing parallels to her and a Jobbernoll. The poor thing never made a sound, that is, until the moment of its death. It lived its life in silence, only screaming out every sound it heard over its lifespan when its time was up.

Emma's quill began to move across the parchment, her mind going into overdrive as she explained about this small, blue-speckled bird. Their small feathers were important in making various memory potions. Before she knew it, she had covered the whole front side of the parchment and given more information than Snape probably wanted, but she wasn't taking chances here. She needed a good grade in Potions for her N.E.W.T. exams.

She put it aside and grabbed her Transfiguration paper. This would take more time seeing as she had to write a three parchment paper. Professor McGonagall had assigned them to explain Metamorphmagus, what it was and how it could benefit or hurt the one born with it. Emma began her paper with a deep sigh. She could only wish she was born a metamorphmagi. The thought of changing one's self to whatever they pleased was a wonderful thought. Emma had never met a person that could do that, but she envied them slightly.

The next thing she knew, it was late afternoon. She had spent hours in the Astronomy Tower with her homework, but she smiled knowing it was finished. There was laughter and music below and Emma stood, walking to look over. Students were out enjoying the cool September day. Some were running around, chasing some screaming girl, while others lounged around on blankets. None of them were aware that she was watching.

Her eyes caught sight of a figure, dressed in all black. The laughter and music died down. The students chasing one another stopped dead in their tracks. It could only mean one thing and Emma knew immediately who the figure was. He walked out towards the kids, his steps measured. He stood still, the students encircling him. From where Emma was, she couldn't hear his words, but what he was doing was easy to read. She watched the shoulders of the students begin to droop as they all marched inside. Their day in the sun was over.

Emma frowned, not thinking it fair that they were made to stop having fun. It was Saturday, after all, and it was their time to do what they pleased. As if he heard her thoughts, she watched Snape turn and slowly look up. It amazed her how he could be but a small speak in her sight, but his sneer was completely readable. She wanted to duck down, anything to disappear from that sneer, but she reminded herself that she was doing nothing wrong.

The need to duck wasn't necessary as Snape lost interest in her and began walking back into the school. It wasn't the first time she wondered why he hated the world so much, or better yet, why he hated the students at Hogwarts. If it was so much of a burden to him, why did he teach? Emma shook the thought from her head. It wasn't her place to judge. Gathering her books and supplies, Emma reluctantly left the Astronomy Tower. It would be dinner soon and she wanted to hurry, eat and retire for the night.

Luckily, there weren't many students in the Great Hall when she arrived. Sitting down at her usual spot, Emma began making her plate. She chose roast beef, potatoes, peas, buttered bread and to wash it all down, pumpkin juice. It had slipped her mind to eat before dinner, so she was starving by the time the first bite of food went into her mouth. It was delicious as always. Before she was finished, the Great Hall had filled with students and teachers.

Her eyes moved to the teacher's table and directly to Snape. He looked like he always did, bored and impatient with what was going on. Tonight though, he looked tired, as if being up all night and most of the day. His usual sneer was half menacing and his eyes looked exhausted. She watched him move the food on his plate, not eating a bite. His attention would go from the food to looking out at the students. Dumbledore tried to coax him into a conversation, but it would only last a few words.

Emma saw the seat beside Snape being pulled out and Connelly sit down. Earlier events played in her head again and she felt the unease make an appearance. To her surprise, she watched Snape's tired face become dark and angry. The hand holding his fork began to squeeze hard. For a moment, Emma waited to see the fork break. Dumbledore whispered something in Snape's ear and he nodded slightly. The next thing Emma knew, she was watching Snape's retreating back as he left the Great Hall using a side door. She couldn't shake the feeling that Dumbledore had intervened on a situation that could have escalated into something nasty, but for what reason she didn't know.

Connelly was looking at her again, smiling. It was her turn to get up and leave. As if she didn't notice him, she stood and walked out. Now that her belly was full, she was tired. Her only thought was of her bed and so, she headed there without stopping.

Before she could reach the stairs, she saw Snape pacing back and forth, his thoughts far from where he was. He was in her path and the only way to the stairs was through him. With a deep sigh to steel her nerves, she walked towards him.

At first, he didn't seem to know of her presence, but as soon as she came right up to him, his movements stopped. She suddenly found herself staring at angered, black orbs. This time, his sneer was so that his teeth were bare. Emma held her head a little higher, besides he was in her way not the other way around.

"And what, may I ask, are you looking at?" he asked her nastily.

On instinct, her head dropped somewhat lower. She didn't need this tonight and all she wanted was to go to bed. She was so tired.

"I was looking for a way around you so I could get to the stairs. I wasn't trying to interrupt," she said quietly.

He scoffed at her, like it was the most ridiculous response she could have given. She stopped herself from mocking his scoff and proceeded to walk forward. Now that he had stopped pacing, the stairs were directly in front of her, unblocked.

Before she could get there, she heard the sound of his robes as he moved to stand before her. She watched him, wondering what he was doing.

"Tell me, Miss Forrester, do you have permission to be in the Astronomy Tower or do you take it upon yourself to feel you are above any such thing as to have permission?"

Emma flinched at his harsh words, not knowing why he was bringing this up now. It angered her, but to show anger to Snape was a month's detention. Spending six years in his house taught you a lot about this man, even though he was still such a stranger.

"I'll be sure to get permission from now on," she said softly.

"You had better. If I see you there again without permission from Professor Sinistra, you will be answering to me!"

He didn't wait for a response. In one swift move, he was walking away from her, leaving coldness behind. Emma watched the direction he went long after he disappeared. This made the third time she had had a run-in with Snape. If she kept it up, she would have detention for sure. Would it kill the guy to be nice for once? Finally, she went straight to bed. That night, Emma dreamt of black orbs and a sneer so scary she awoke with a start.

Sunday was spent outdoors again. This time, she stayed away from the Astronomy Tower until she could talk to Professor Sinistra. She wouldn't put it past Snape to be waiting on her to go up there just so he could catch her.

She found a large oak tree and planted herself underneath it, enjoying the sun and cool breeze. She began to read, the world around her fading.

"Ah, Miss Forrester so good to see you again."

Emma groaned inwardly. It was Connelly, his shadow blocking out the sun. Emma looked up, smiling as best she could. For a moment, she wondered if he was following her, or maybe watching her. For the second day, he had showed up where she was.

"I was looking for you this morning. I was up for my run!" he said.

"Oh, I-I decided to sleep in today."

"Pity," he said simply. "It was a beautiful morning."

Emma looked around, noticing no one around. It was just the two of them. Where had everyone gone? When she had come out here earlier, the place was crawling with students and teachers. Now, there was nothing. She grabbed her book and stood.

"Well, I better get going. I want to retire early tonight," she said as she began to walk towards the school entrance.

"Why are you in such a hurry, Miss Forrester? One would think you are deliberately trying to get away from me?" he said just a little too controlled.

Emma stopped but didn't turn to look at him. The truth was she was trying to get away from him. She had already told him more than she should about herself and he still gave her the creeps. He seemed nice enough, and that's why she had told him what she did yesterday, but there was still something strange about him.

"I won't harm you, I am a teacher," he said with a chuckle.

That chuckle was enough to make Emma turn and look at him. She expected to see him transform into something hideous, but he remained his smiling self. Was she taking this a little too far? He was right, he was a teacher and Dumbledore trusted him enough to teach at Hogwarts. Why should she think badly of him? Still, in her gut, she felt uneasy. If she learned one thing at the orphanage, it was to trust your gut.

"I'm not scared of you, just tired," she lied.

She forced a small smile to her face and began her walk again. He didn't stop her this time. Emma walked straight to the Slytherin part of Hogwarts, not stopping until she was seated on the chair beside the fire in the common room. Staring into the flames, she saw nothing but Connelly's smile. Her eyes bore into the flames, the smile growing wider. She felt as though she was losing it, but she couldn't look away from the flames.

Suddenly, the flames shot high in the air. The sound of crackling wood intensified. Emma jumped and let out a loud gasp. Her wide eyes watched the flames die down to their original state. For a moment, she sat there, staring. She felt as if she were finally losing her mind. She dragged herself into bed and for the rest of evening into the night she slept.

It was a typical Monday. Emma went from class to class wishing the day to be over. Even with all the sleep she got the night before, she felt exhausted. It took all her strength to stay away, even in Snape's class. He had gathered their essays, choosing to grade them while class was ongoing. While they were busy making another potion, Snape's angered voice would shout out at the unsuspecting student whose essay Snape was grading.

After shouting at Harry Potter, telling him how stupid he was, Snape grew silent. The students silently watched as his eyes moved on the parchment in his hands. Emma waited to hear Snape's next victim, but it never came. The more he continued to read silently, the nervous the students became. It was as if they were waiting on a beastly animal to strike down upon them.

"Miss Forrester," Snape called out.

Groaning inside, Emma stood up. She switched from one foot to another, the nervousness growing. Finally, Snape looked straight at her. Gone from his face was his sneer, instead it showed nothing at all. She didn't know whether to take it as a good sign or not.

"Twenty points to Slytherin for your essay."

It was all he said before going on to the next essay. Emma allowed herself a breath and a small smile. Snape never saw it, seeing as he wasn't looking at her. She took her seat, feeling a little more weight lifting from her shoulders.

Finally, Potions was over and the majority of the class had been humiliated. Emma tried not to show her excitement due to all of the somber faces around her. She grabbed her belongings and walked towards the door. Out in the hall, she turned to go to her next class. She was so caught up in her dread of having to see Connelly that she missed Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle standing right in front of her.

One minute she was walking upright, the next, she was face down on the floor. Her head hit with a loud crack, sending pain shooting down her neck. On instinct, she grabbed her head, feeling the moisture immediately. There was laughter up above her. Emma looked up, the moisture running into her eyes but it didn't stop her anger from rising.

"You think those twenty points you earned us changes anything about you? You're still invisible," Draco said.

Emma saw red, but it wasn't from the blood in her eye. She had had enough of this little prick and his goons. It was time to show him what she could do. Emma stood to her feet, grabbing her wand. Draco saw it, his face going from amusement to fear.

"That…will be enough!"

All four students turned to see Snape standing at the door to his classroom. His eyes went from Emma's bloodied head to the three boys behind her.

"Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, classes…now!" he said without discussion.

Once they had all but ran away from Snape, he turned and motioned for Emma to follow him back inside the classroom. She would be late to Connelly's class for sure today, but the moment she touched her tender forehead, she did as Snape told her.

"Sit," he commanded.

Emma sat on top of his desk, waiting to see what he was about to do. She watched him walk to the back of the room, grabbing something in his hand. Once she noticed what it was, her face grew concerned. Snape noticed and showed his famous sneer.

"You are not that stupid girl! Just stay still," he griped.

She watched silently as he raised his wand, barely coming to within inches of her wounded head. The room was deathly quiet, the only sound was her heart pounding.

"Episkey," he said low.

Emma felt a hot and cold sensation where her wound was. Snape stepped back, walking over to put his wand back up. Emma reached up, feeling only smooth skin where the cut had been. She heard water and looked up to see Snape wetting something. He walked back to her, thrusting a piece of cloth towards her.

"Clean yourself up," he said shortly.

Once she had taken care of the blood, she stood to make her way out of the dungeon. Snape stopped her before she could leave, handing her a sheet of paper. She knew what it was and almost kicked herself for leaving before he could write her an excuse. She turned to thank him, but he was already going through his side door. Emma swallowed the thanks, walking out of the room.

Connelly's class was already underway. Emma tried to slip in as quietly as she could, but it wasn't enough. All eyes turned to look at her. Draco sat looking very proud. Emma ignored him as best she could.

"Miss Forrester, nice of you to join us," Connelly said from the front of the class.

Emma looked at him and noticed he looked somewhat angry. This wasn't good, but at least she had Snape's note. Connelly couldn't do anything to her…could he? She took her seat and for the rest of the class, kept out of sight.

Once class was over, Emma rose immediately, grabbing her things to go.

"Miss Forrester, a word," said Connelly.

Emma stopped right at the door, a step away from freedom. The students behind her grew impatient as she kept them from leaving. She realized there was no way out of this situation. She reached in her pocket and grabbed Snape's note, getting it ready. When the students had gone, Connelly stood from his seat and walked towards where Emma waited by the door.

"You were late for class today," he stated.

"Yes sir, I-I apologize for t-that. T-there was a problem, but its f-fixed now," Emma stammered.

"Is it now?" he asked skeptically.

Emma shook her head yes. Connelly looked down to the paper in her hand. Emma held it out for him to take, but he just stared at it.

"It's a note from Professor Snape excusing my tardiness," Emma told him.

Connelly turned from her without taking the note. She watched him silently as he went back to his desk. She wondered if she should take the note and lay it before him, but something stopped her. She felt a strong desire to get out of the room and far away from him. Connelly picked up his quill and began to write. When he was finished, he looked up at her, a hard look on his face.

"Detention tonight, Miss Forrester and I suggest you not be late!"

The color all but drained from Emma's face.

**Ooookay! You know what to do now. It's okay to leave comments, I don't bite! The story will pick up the pace from here and get dark, so get ready! Thanks for reading and I'll post more soon.**


	4. Dentention Means Hell

**Disclaimer: Do I still need to use one of these…it's depressing to remind myself that I can't own Snape! If you want a disclaimer, look at the other chapters…for now, I own him, muahahahahaha! Just kidding…J.K. Rowlings, you know the rest! **

Emma walked from her dorm room to Professor Connelly's office. It was eight in the evening and all she wanted to do was go to bed. How could she have gotten detention on her second week of school and besides, she had the excuse from Snape. She couldn't remember the last time she was reprimanded by a teacher. Connelly was being unfair, she wasn't even that late to class and it was all Draco's fault anyway. If he had not have tripped her, she would never have been late. She would go out on a limb and say Connelly didn't care the reason she was late, just that she showed up at his office on time.

Emma reached his door, taking a deep breath before knocking. Hopefully, he would have her do something simple and in an hour, she would be curled up in her bed fast asleep. Her knuckles hit the wooden door three times and she waited to be called in.

"Come in," she heard Connelly call out.

She entered his office. He was sitting behind a large mahogany desk going over some parchment. Emma took this time to have a look around. The room was dimly lit, which surprised her a little. Connelly seemed much brighter than what his office was putting out. For a moment, it made her think of Snape and his office. It was quite the same in comparison. Maybe the lighting in all of the Professor's offices was this dimly lit.

All around her were rows and rows of books, none that she could read the names of due to the lighting. The number of books surprised her. His desk was immaculate, nothing out of place. His well-built body sat in a black leather chair. His quill flew over the parchment as he wrote feverishly. For a moment, Emma tried to peer over and see what had his attention, but in the dim light she could see nothing.

Emma chose to just stand silently, waiting for him to finish. She started to get a bit antsy as the seconds ticked away on the large Grandfather clock in the corner. The sound began to take its own shape in her mind, building speed. She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Her heartbeat began to match the rhythm of the ticking noise. Still, he did not stop his writing. For a moment, Emma thought of just walking out, but she knew that her troubles would intensify. Maybe making her wait was part of the punishment.

"Can you please be still, Miss Forrester, you are distracting me," he said lightly.

She stopped at once. Her attention went back to Connelly. His voice had been soft, but there was something underneath the surface. It made her skin tingle and crawl. For some reason, unbeknownst to her, she was starting to get a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. She became entranced by the speed of the quill, faster and faster it went. Her eyes stared, unblinking, at the black feather until suddenly it went still. She let out a small breath that she had been holding. Connelly's lips began to twitch, as if he wanted to smile.

"Have a seat," he said, pointing to the chair beside his desk.

With numb legs, Emma walked to the seat, sitting down slowly. Her eyes never left his blue ones. There was a look in them that made her feel uncomfortable, as if he were looking straight through her. She swallowed, her throat feeling dry and forced her eyes to look away, staring straight ahead. Connelly stood up, walking behind her. Emma forced herself to remain looking ahead, reminding herself that he was a teacher and no matter who uncomfortable she felt, he had never shown anything but compassion. Where ever this bad feeling was coming from, it surely wasn't necessary.

"You were late for my class, Miss Forrester. I do not like it when my students are late. It throws off my whole day," he said softly.

Again, she swallowed, "I do apologize, Professor Connelly. There was an incident outside of Professor Snape's class. I tried to hurry as fast as I could."

There was a small laugh behind her. Emma turned her head, watching Connelly take his robes off. He was wearing a plain, blue suit. It matched the color of his eyes. He slowly ran his hands through his brown hair. She could see how tired he looked, and there was something else she couldn't quite place.

"Next time, you come directly to me and not Severus! I will not have him interrupting my class," Connelly hissed.

Emma jumped at the sound of his anger. She thought about telling him that it wasn't Snape's fault and that she didn't go to him, he was just there, but she kept her mouth shut instead. It dawned on her that something was going on between Snape and Connelly, some unspoken dislike. What it was, she wasn't sure, but she decided it must be over the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Since Connelly had won the position, it angered Snape, but why Connelly disliked Snape was still a mystery.

"It doesn't matter the reason you were late, Miss Forrester. It has only given me the perfect opportunity for such occasion as this. I have been waiting to come to Hogwarts for a while now, do you know why?"

Emma shook her head no.

"Because of you, Emma," he whispered right at her ear.

To hear her first name being whispered by him almost had her jumping from her chair. She was confused by what he said. What on earth did he mean? He was very close to her. Emma had to squash the sensation of wanting to flinch away from him. His voice became unrecognizable to her, not the voice from their walk a few days ago. She turned her head slightly, coming to stare at his cold, blue eyes. They looked none too welcoming and Emma began to panic. The voice in her head screaming that this was a teacher wasn't helping anymore.

"What would you have me do?" she whispered.

A twisted smile began to grow on his lips. His eyes became hooded as he stared at her. Without thought, Emma jumped from the chair and began running towards the door. A panicked voice inside her head screamed at her to get out of the office. Something was definitely wrong with Connelly tonight and she could feel it through every fiber of her being. She felt as though she were a bird trapped in a cage. Behind her, Connelly began to laugh softly. Her hand flung out, grabbing the doorknob to turn it. It did not budge. Emma tried shaking it but still, it did not so much as move an inch.

"Your detention is not finished!" Connelly said amusingly.

Emma turned slowly, letting out a small whimper. He was standing before her, his wand raised. She could not understand what was happening. What was causing him to act this way? He was supposed to protect her, not hurt her. Still, his wand was raised in her direction, a devilish gleam in his eyes. Emma kicked herself for not bringing her own wand.

"W-what are y-you d-doin?" she said in a weak voice.

"Incarcerous!" Connelly said, the wand still pointed at Emma.

Emma felt her arms shoot behind her back, something she couldn't see was tied around them. Her legs came together and again, something unseen tied them to each other. She let out a startled scream as she fell forward. Her eyes snapped shut, waiting on the impact of the floor, but it never came. She felt Connelly's arms around her, holding her to him. She tried to struggle, but it was useless. She did not have the control of her hands to fight and her legs were just as useless. Emma did the only other thing she could think of…she began to scream.

"Go on, scream! No one is going to hear you, Emma. The door is protected by an Imperturbable Charm. No one can hear a thing inside of this room," he said soothingly.

She whimpered as he ran his large hand down her face, touching her lips softly. Emma jerked her head out of his reach. She felt sick to her stomach. Connelly picked her up as she struggled against him. He placed her, none too gently, back on the chair, walking around her in a circle, his eyes roaming over every part of her.

"You must be wondering what I'm doing," he said, as if they were discussing the weather.

Emma stared at him, shocked that he could be so calm. She was fearful of the things he was planning to do to her. He had used the Incarcerous spell on her so easily, tying her up so she could not move at all. She started fighting against the ropes on her hands and feet, trying to find a weakness in them. If her screams would not get anyone's attention then she was on her own. Emma looked around desperately for anything to protect herself with once she got her hands and feet free.

"Emma, there's no point in fighting. The spell is binding until I release you from it. Surly you have learned something from your time here at Hogwarts," he said with a laugh. It amazed her that he found this all funny.

"You can't do this," Emma hissed.

"Oh, but I already have! You aren't asking the right questions, Emma. You should be asking why."

"Why?" she whispered.

Connelly strolled towards her, stopping directly in front of her. For a moment, Emma watched him watching her without saying a word. Then, he slowly sat down, one leg on either side of her. She grunted with the new pressure of him on top of her. He did not hold back a single ounce of his weight.

"There are a lot of secrets you can hide from certain individuals if you have the right people in the right places. My background is important, but we won't get into that tonight. I am here for reasons your little mind can't even begin to imagine, not yet anyway. There is so much to tell you, but tonight is not that night."

Emma began to struggle again. What he was saying did nothing but confuse her more. He wasn't answering her questions, but causing more to rise up within her mind. Who was this man? What was he really doing here at Hogwarts? Tears began to build in her eyes, blinding her vision of Connelly.

"I don't understand," Emma cried out.

Connelly laughed, leaning his nose into her hair, breathing deeply. "Of course you don't, Emma. You don't understand because you have no idea who I truly am. You have no idea what I'm capable of, no one does. In time, dear, you will come to understand it all!" he said softly.

Suddenly, his lips were on hers, kissing her roughly. She screamed into his mouth as she tried tearing her face away from his. She felt him grab her face, holding it still. This had to be a nightmare and surly she would wake from it soon. This wasn't happening, it couldn't.

"Before I'm done with you, you won't even be able to recognize yourself, Emma. You should not fear, in the end you will see. It will be worth it all I promise. I will take you before him, declaring, again, that you are mine and then you will truly know what is happening," he whispered.

Emma's face scrunched up in confusion. Take her before whom? What on earth was he talking about? For a moment, Emma thought that he had lost his mind, but the look in his eyes told her that he was very aware of what he was doing.

"I wasn't sure it was you until the day I walked you back to the school. I felt it the first night, that it could be you, but you confirmed it once you told me the orphanage you came from," Connelly said.

"What are you talking about," Emma cried.

"I know what is going through your head right now. I know you are thinking of leaving this office and running to Dumbledore, or perhaps even Snape. Believe me, I have thought of that such thing happening and you know as well as I do that I cannot let that happen. They won't believe you, Emma. Who would believe an invisible girl over a teacher?" he said, as if she never spoke.

It hit her, as if a ton of bricks came crashing down upon her. He was going to torture her in any way that he could and she would not be able to stop it. Connelly had planted that seed of doubt in her head about telling the other Professors. He was right none of them would believe her. It was her word against his and without proof, she would be thrown out of this place like a rag doll or maybe worse.

"I can see that you agree with me about the other Professors. Emma, I have a way with people. I got this job so easily. It would not be wise to attempt to cross me. People have been led to Azkaban for much less," Connelly said.

Emma flinched at the thought of that happening to her. He had her, Merlin he had her.

"I will leave it here tonight. You know all that I want you to know at the moment. You will come to me for the rest of the week and I will explain further as each day passes. There will come a day when everything will be clear, Emma," he said, bending down to smell her hair again.

Connelly stood up, walking away from Emma. She sat there, feeling lost and empty. With a wave of his wand, her feet and hands were feed, but she dared not move. He did not say she could go. Emma was too wrapped up in her terror to move.

"You may go now, Emma. Do remember what I said about keeping quiet. You are most valuable to me and I would hate to kill you before we have even begun with our life."

Emma did not waist time. She jumped from the chair, her momentum taking her forward. She was numb and could not stop herself from crashing to the floor. With what little strength she had left, she began to crawl towards the door, tears pouring from her eyes.

Her hand reached the wooden door and she jerked it open. He must have raised the spell from it, because it opened on the first try. Emma threw herself out into the darkened hallway, half running half falling as she went. There was no one around, for they were safe and sound in their rooms.

Emma reached for the wall, putting all of her weight on it to stand upright. Her body was shaking uncontrollably, the tears in her eyes making her visibility limited. She feared Connelly would come out of his office and drag her back in doing more damage than he had already done. That thought was enough to get her feet moving. She began running towards the Slytherin quarters. If anyone tried to stop her right now, she would run straight through them not thinking twice about it.

The bile was rising in her stomach and she had to get to the bathroom otherwise, there would be a mess in the middle of the hallway. She did not want to be caught out here throwing up her breakfast, lunch and dinner. Suddenly, there were footsteps in front of her and with a soft gasp, Emma dodged into a dark classroom. She stood there, breathing heavily, holding her stomach to stop the bile from coming up any further. With wide eyes, she stared out of the crack in the door. Snape came to a halt, right across from her. Emma quietly took a step back into the darkness, her hand going over her mouth. His black orbs searched all around him, as if he could feel her presence. Slowly, he circled around, looking in every direction. Once he was satisfied no one was about, he continued walking down the darkened hallway.

Emma waited until she knew he was gone and made a run for it again. Her footsteps sounded too loud to her ears, but if she stopped again she would lose the contents of her stomach on the floor. Finally, the bathroom doors came into view and she dove for them, falling to the floor. With a sob, she crawled to the first stall and threw up. It was a violent assault on her body that had her eyes squeezed shut in a death-like grip. She held onto the porcelain with all of her strength. It seemed as if the assault lasted for hours.

Shaking, she sat back against the cold stall, her eyes still shut tight. Her cheeks were wet with tears, her head pounding with each beat of her heart. For the rest of the night, Emma sat in the stall, thinking of all that had happened and what she was going to do to get herself out of Connelly's grasp. None of it made any sense, but that didn't stop her from feeling trapped and frightened. Everything Connelly had told her didn't explain his actions. His words were said with such conviction that she had no choice but to believe them. What about the other Professors? Would they believe her if she told them what he had done to her tonight? Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice whispered they would no more believe her than they would believe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was harmless.

Emma had no idea what time it was, but soon the bathroom came alive with chatter. Finding the strength, she stood to her feet. Her body was still shaking, but nothing like earlier. With a deep breath, she pushed the stall open to go to her room. Three girls stood in front of the mirror fixing their makeup. They were all in her same year and each of their eyes was on her. She tried to smile at them, but she could not force the smile to her lips. They looked at her as if she had grown two heads. Emma could only imagine the state she was in. She did not give them time to say anything to her. The bathroom door was jerked open and she walked briskly towards her room, not stopping to look at anyone passing her. Slowly, the hallways began to fill with students.

Emma stumbled towards her bed, sitting down. Her hands came up to her face, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She had not gone to bed, therefore, she was exhausted. There was no time for sleep, seeing as it was already eight-thirty in the morning. She only had a few moments to shower, change and head for the Great Hall. Finding the strength to make her body and mind grow numb, she grabbed her robes and headed to the showers.

Laughter and chatter filled the Great Hall as Emma walked in. She kept her head down, her eyes trained to the floor. She knew where the Slytherin table sat and did not need to look up to find her way around. She avoided the teacher's table at all cost. If her eyes so much as caught a glimpse of Connelly, she would break down in front of the entire school.

Her seat was empty as usual and she sat with an audible sigh. Luckily, no one at the table tried to talk to her. She buried herself as low towards the table as she could get, wanting to black out the teacher's table as best she could. She knew Connelly was present, the hairs rising on the back of her neck.

When everyone was settled, Dumbledore stood and made his morning announcements, nothing was new. Then, with a clasp of his hands, food appeared before Emma. She could not help the flinch as she looked over the assortment of bacon, eggs, buttered toast, fruits and yogurt. Her stomach did a flip and she feared that she would be sick again. The last thing she needed was to make a scene in front of the students by uploading the contents of her stomach onto the table before her. The smell alone was enough to make her whimper. She would not be eating a bite today.

What was she going to do? Was Connelly staring at her with those cold, blue eyes? Would he punish her worse for showing how scared she was and not eating? The questions continued to swim in her head and she fought the urge to glance towards the teacher's table. It was beginning to become too much and to her horror, she looked up.

Connelly sat between Snape and Mcgonagall, looking deep in discussion with the older woman. Emma swallowed hard as last night's events played in her mind. She remembered how his weight bore down on her, how rough his lips had been on her. She thought how he confused her with every word he spoke and scared her all at the same time. Now, here he sat talking to Mcgonagall like nothing had ever happened. She closed her eyes, letting out a small breath. As much as she tried, she could not stop the dread that seeped into her very core. This wasn't going to turn out good she just knew it.

Moments later, she slowly opened her eyes still staring at the teacher's table. She could not help the small gasp that escaped her when she noticed someone was watching her. She was too scared to look away. It took a moment to realize something was different about the eyes. They were just as intense as Connelly's but softer somehow. It was the color of the eyes that finally got her attention. Gone were the cold, blue eyes and in its place, Emma realized she was staring into black orbs. Those black orbs happened to belong to one, Professor Severus Snape. He looked at her with a face full of confusion and it hit her, he had seen the fear in her.

**Alrighty! Emma is in some deep trouble and it will only get deeper as the story goes along. More details on what Connelly is up to will reveal itself in the upcoming chapters! As for Snape...do you think he will be able to see past his own pain to see someone in need? We will just have to wait and see! Review, review, review!**


	5. A Protector is Made

**Had this chapter ready, so I thought I would go ahead and post it! Hope you enjoy…**

Emma rubbed her temples, her eyes closing on their own. The massive headache had started in between Herbology and Transfiguration. Her body was tense beyond what was normal and nothing she did would ease her fears. The day was passing too fast and night would be upon them soon. No matter how she dissected her current situation, she saw no light at the end of the tunnel.

Professor Mcgonagall's lecture died away as the pounding continued to build. Emma had fought the urge to go to her room and lock herself in, not coming out until this whole mess blows by. That was out of the question though. Not only did she still have to face Connelly in his class, but she also had to deal with Snape. Ever since this morning at breakfast, she had noticed him watching her. Everywhere she had turned, he had been there watching. For one horrified moment, Emma wondered if he knew. Had he read her mind at breakfast? Was he going to get her thrown out, thinking she was making it all up if he had read her mind?

She put her head on the desk, willing the pain to go away. It no more listened to her than the Professors would if she went to them for help. Emma heard her name being called, but she ignored it. Again, she heard it.

"Miss Forester, I'm speaking to you!" Mcgonagall said more firmly.

Emma had no choice but to look up. Everyone had turned in their seats staring straight at her. She looked at each of their faces, seeing some found this rather funny. She made herself turn from their prying eyes, looking straight at the Professor. Mcgonagall, on the other hand, looked none too happy.

"Y-yes Professor M-Mcgonagall," Emma said. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was far too dry.

"If you want to nap, Miss Forester, I suggest you go to bed at night at a proper time!" she said in a low voice.

There were several chuckles throughout the class. Emma nodded her head, not bothering to respond. She would give anything to be able to go to bed at night, but there was only one problem with that…she had to deal with Connelly when all others were in bed. Mcgonagall didn't know that therefore, Emma felt no ill will towards the woman for saying what she did. Besides, she was too tired to feel anything but the pounding headache. For the rest of the class, Emma kept her head up as if listening to what the Professor was saying.

Time seemed to pass by in a blur after that. Emma drifted through the rest of classes, the pounding in her head never letting up. Several times, she had to fight the urge to run to the bathroom to throw up. Her eyes hurt almost as bad as her head, begging her to allow them to close. She shook her head, clearing the fog that fell upon her.

She was sitting in Potions and before her was another caldron. Again, they were made to create another potion, but to Emma's horror, she had missed Snape's instructions. Her mind wasn't working well enough for her to just look at the ingredients and go from there.

Behind her, Emma could hear Snape moving from one desk to the other, his eyes roaming over the student's progress. He would be upon her soon and see her caldron completely empty. With a shaky hand, Emma grabbed the first ingredient. It was a root of some kind and she begged her head to quit pounding long enough for her to think. Snape was inches away from her now, his robes billowing as he walked. Her eyes bore into the root, screaming for the answer to come to her.

"Miss Forester, is there a problem?"

Emma closed her eyes, realizing her time was up. She had not done a thing with her potion and now Snape stood in front of her waiting for an answer as to why his best student had not done a thing. She had no answer except that her head hurt too much for her to think.

"N-no sir," she said quietly.

Snape did not move away from her, but stood firmly to his spot. The seconds passed by and no words were spoken. Emma stared at the caldron, not daring to meet the Professor's eyes. A horrible thought occurred to her then. What if Snape made her stay after class again? What if he made her late to Connelly's class?

With all the strength she had, Emma looked up at Snape. For a moment, she was surprised to see his sneer and angered look absent from his face. He was looking at her with somewhat of concern mixed with confusion. It was very foreign on his features. She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but the effort caused her head to ache harder. Instead, the smile became a grimace.

"Miss Forester, follow me," Snape said as he turned and headed towards the exit.

The class began to "oh" and "ah" as Emma did as she was told. Draco and his goons were snickering at her as she passed them and Emma squashed the urge to introduce his head to her book bag.

"Silence!" Snape bellowed to the class.

All at once, the entire room grew silent and the students went back to making their potions. Emma walked towards a waiting Snape as if he were leading her towards Azkaban. What was he going to do? Was he fixing to kick her out of his class?

The hall was completely deserted. Not a sound could be heard, not even from the poltergeists that inhabited to school. Emma waited for Snape to come down upon her with his wrath but again, nothing happened. He was staring at her, watching her that much she knew, but not a word was spoken for several moments. It was as if he were giving her the chance to explain before he had to pull it out of her.

"I-I apologize, Professor Snape. I don't f-feel so well today and m-my head is pounding too much for m-me to concentrate."

Emma wanted to kick herself at how lame it sounded. It was the truth, yes, but still sounded so lame. She stole a look at Snape, seeing him watching her, his face void of emotion. She couldn't read if he was angry or humored at her pain.

"You do not look well," he said nonchalantly.

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling the need to apologize for some reason.

Snape rolled his eyes at her apology. He turned on his heels, walking down the hall. Without a word, he motioned for her to follow him. With a deep sigh, Emma did as he wanted.

It took several turns and a staircase later for their destination to be known to Emma. At first, she was scared he was leading her to Dumbledore's office for a reprimand, but that thought soon evaporated once they passed the Headmaster's gargoyles. They sat, staring at her with unmoving eyes and she couldn't help but hurry past them and almost bumping into Snape's back. Luckily, she stopped her movements before she could make a bigger fool of herself.

Soon, she found herself in the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey looked up, surprise written on her face. Snape walked towards the woman and Emma followed, wondering what on earth Snape was up to.

"Severus, this is a surprise. How may I help you?" Madame Pomfrey asked.

"Poppy, I have a student with me that needs tending to."

Madame Pomfrey looked passed Snape towards Emma. She smiled gently at her, patting the bed she stood beside. Emma walked slowly past Snape and sat where Madame Pomfrey pointed her to sit. It surprised her that Snape remained where he was, watching the two women. He looked as if he had no intentions of leaving.

"Severus, I can handle the child from here. You can go back to your classroom," Madame Pomfrey said without turning to look at him. Her attention was completely on Emma.

Snape, looking a little embarrassed, nodded his head and with one final look at Emma, he turned and walked out.

"Well, imagine that…the man does have a heart after all," Madame Pomfrey mumbled to herself.

She didn't give Emma time to comment when she raised her hands towards Emma's head. She became nervous at once, looking at the older woman with wide eyes. What was she doing?

"Relax dear, I'm trying to find the reason Severus brought you here."

"You can just ask," Emma said quietly.

Madame Pomfrey chuckled, lowering her hands. "Yes, I guess I could do that. Fine, what is bothering you today dear?"

"I-It's my head. It's been hurting since last night and I can't ease it. My vision and concentration are being affected."

Madame Pomfrey nodded her head at everything Emma told her. "Ah, I see. Well this shouldn't be hard to fix. It's just a mere headache, dear, nothing to be worried about. Emma sat very still as the woman raised her hands again. She was relieved to know that soon the pain would be gone from her head and she could concentrate again. She would need all her wits about her when nightfall came.

"Just relax while I pinpoint the spot of the pain and I should have you as good as new in no time."

Emma watched as Madame Pomfrey stood close to her, her hands gliding around Emma's head. She closed her eyes, feeling the pain dying down. It was a relief that felt heavenly and a small smile played on Emma's face. Whatever the woman was doing, it was working. She could hear her whispering words under her breath, performing a spell to rid her of the pain.

Emma was so caught up in her relief that she almost missed the other woman's gasp, but it was plainly heard and Emma opened her eyes. Madame Pomfrey was staring at her, her eyes wide as the moon. The older woman took a couple of steps away from Emma, her eyes never leaving her. For one horrifying moment, Emma feared that she had seen something in her mind about what had happened with Connelly last night.

"Magic…what in Merlin's name," Madame Pomfrey whispered.

The pain in Emma's head was completely gone, but fear overtook her. Madame Profrey continued staring, a few minute passed and the woman had not blinked once. Emma had to get out of there and fast. She jumped off the table and went to leave but was stopped as the woman grabbed her arm.

"You are covered in magic. Someone has used powerful spells on you, child!"

Emma froze, watching the woman before her. Here was her chance. Here was her chance to tell someone what Connelly had done to her and what he would continue to do. She felt the words on the end of her tongue.

"Who was it?" she asked angrily. "Which of the students would dare harm one of their own?"

At that moment, Emma felt the chance die in her throat. Connelly's words reared its ugly head in her mind, reminding her that none of the Professors would believe her. Here, Madame Pomfrey stood thinking it was a student. A part of Emma cried out in the knowledge that even if she told the woman, she wouldn't believe her, her mind already made up that it was a student.

Emma jerked her hand from the woman's hold. "I don't know what you're talking about," Emma said low.

Without another word, she walked towards the exit of the hospital wing. Her head no longer ached, but the hopelessness of her situation was just as painful. Madame Pomfrey never tried to stop her from leaving.

Emma walked towards Snape's room, her mind going ninety to nothing. Her footsteps echoed through the silent hall. Down stairs, the cold air hit her bitterly and she sucked in a shallow breath. Coming to Snape's room, she jerked the door open and walked in. It was completely empty. Emma looked around confused and then it hit her. Snape's class was over and had been for some time now.

The realization hit her squarely in the chest and she slid down the wall until she was seated on the cold, dark floor. For the second time, she would be late for Connelly's class. Closing her eyes, Emma laid her head on her knees, the whole time trying to figure out how to get out of this mess.

"Miss Forester?"

Emma jerked her head up to see Snape walking into the room from the side door. He came towards her slowly. She noticed his robes were gone and all that was left was a crisp, black suit.

"Class has been over for twenty minutes now," he said, as if he could read her thoughts.

Emma slowly stood to her feet, feeling the sudden urge to run far from this place, far from the school. There was no way she could face Connelly now. He would not punish her in front of the class, no, he would wait until tonight. She turned, grabbing the doorknob to leave, but Snape's voice stopped her.

"I assume you are feeling better? You are my best student and a Slytherin and I need you to act like it when you are in my class, understood?"

Emma shook her head, laughing humorlessly. She had actually thought he was being kind to her earlier, helping her to the hospital wing. Now, she understood it was only to save face for his precious Slytherins. She felt anger rising up in her and it used all of her strength to squash it down. She had more than enough problems with one Professor than she cared to have, she didn't need a second Professor to come down on her.

"Is something funny?" Snape sneered.

Emma looked Snape directly in the eyes. Without realizing it, a single tear fell down her flushed cheeks. "No sir, there is nothing funny," she whispered.

She watched as the sneer died slowly on Snape's face. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Another tear ran down her face, but Emma did not try to stop them. They stood in silence for what seemed like eternity, both having something to say, but neither willing to say it.

"You may go now, Miss Forester," Snape said.

With that, Emma left the room going straight to her room. She would not be going to Defense Against the Dark Arts today. Walking in late would be no worse than not going at all. Connelly would make sure of that tonight. She flung herself on her bed, hugging her pillows to her. Putting everything aside, Emma willed herself to sleep knowing she would need all of her strength in a few hours. Her last thought before she fell into unconsciousness was how Snape had helped her, no matter his reasons.

* * *

><p>"I'm safe, I'm safe…." The whispered chant was drowned out by the cascading sound of water. Emma sat curled on the floor of the Slytherin girl's shower room. She had just escaped another night at Connelly's hands. Not bothering to undress, her robes were soaking wet, her long, black hair plastered to her head. The tears mixed with the water and fell down her reddened face. Emma was shaking from head to foot as her body tried to rid itself from the spells cast upon her from earlier.<p>

"I'm safe, it's alright! I'm safe now," she continued whispering to herself.

Emma's eyes were wide, not seeing anything but the water falling in them. Her lips trembled as she whispered her words over and over again. The water from the shower was becoming colder, but she dared not move yet.

For the second time in two days, she felt her stomach begin to turn. She had only seconds to lean down to the shower drain. Everything she consumed that day came up with a fury. The water washed it down as soon as it hit the shower floor. Emma squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the assault to weaken. Was it always going to be like this when she left Connelly's office?

This last encounter with Connelly had been worse than the night before. After all, she had skipped his class, making him angrier at her. He had used the incarcerous curse again, binding her arms and legs. Emma did not fight, knowing that she couldn't break its hold. She was forced to watch him watching her with his horrible eyes that she had come to hate as much as Connelly himself. Again, he told her over and over how the other Professors would never believe her. They would never allow one of their own to fall at the hands of a lying, invisible girl like her.

Without proof, it would be nothing but the wild fantasies of an unstable student. She had tried to argue with him, trying to put fear in his mind that she would tell and she would be believed. All she received was a back hand to the face. Connelly had hit her, causing her head to jerk to one side, pain shooting through her neck. He was in her face, screaming at her that she would keep her mouth shut.

He had shared a little more with her, admitting he had known her parents but giving her no more detail than that. To Emma, the not knowing and confusion was far worse than anything he could do to her physically. He had spoken her parent's names and it had caused a deep pain within her so strong that she cried out, as if he had struck her again. He ran his calloused hands down her face, whispering to her as if to sooth her. Without thinking, she spit in his face, giving herself but a moment of triumph.

When her stomach settled down, Emma leaned against the cold wall. Her head felt as if she were in a fog. Her ears were ringing and her mouth tasted awful. If she could look in the mirror, she would notice that her eyes would be swollen and red. She felt like death warmed over and a part of her whispered that it was exactly what she was becoming.

"_Obscuro!" _

She jumped at the memory of Connelly blindfolding her, allowing her to see nothing. He had pointed his wand at her face and said the words. Darkness fell upon her eyesight as something held tight against her eyes. She had begged him to stop, but he had ignored her. It had only been the second night that she had had to go to him and already she felt a piece of her let go of her sanity. How much more could she take and for how long?

She raised a shaky hand towards her face. The water dripped from her white skin as she rubbed her eyes and mouth. The feeling was finally starting to subside and soon she would find the strength to get out of the shower and to her bed. It was midnight and everyone was sleeping as usual. The water was turning cold and it was her sign that she had had enough.

She reached over and turned the water off. The bathroom was thrown into silence. The only sound was the soft drip of the shower head. Emma did not get up but stayed as still as possible. She allowed the sorrow and helplessness to take over one more time, letting the tears fall. A gut-wrenching feeling overpowered her and she let out a sob. Connell's face danced behind her shut eyelids, his smile and hands touching every part of her. When she left this room, she would have to put on her mask of indifference and hide from the rest of the world. For the moment, she would allow herself to feel every piece of her shattered soul. No one would know what was happening to her, no one. It was her word against Connelly's. No one, not even Dumbledore, would believe her. Why would they?

At the thought of the Headmaster's name, Emma's sobs became louder. He was supposed to be the eyes and ears of this school and yet, he did not seem to know what was happening. How could that be? If he did know, he made no move to stop Connelly. Emma felt the first sting of anger rise with in her at the thought that someone, a teacher perhaps, knew and did nothing. Sadly, she remembered that Dumbledore had too much on his plate to know everything that went on in his school. Everyone knew that he was spending most of his time with Harry Potter. No, Dumbledore wouldn't be coming to her rescue and the horrible part was, Emma knew she was on her own.

It had crossed her mind, at one point, to risk it and just tell someone, but the fear of them not believing her was too much. She had no proof, Connelly made sure of that. Without being able to prove anything, Emma knew that her word meant nothing compared to his. She swallowed hard, trying to stop the sobs. It was a no win battle.

The thought of killing Connelly had crossed Emma's mind on several occasions, Azkaban be damned. What he had in store for her and what he had already done was just as bad as that horrid place. Emma laughed, thinking it crazy that anything could be as bad as Azkaban. Maybe she was going crazy.

Other thoughts had crept into her mind as the moments passed. She thought of just leaving, just rushing to Hogwarts Express and leaving this place for good. This thought was the one she most thought about. She dissected it from the inside out, running every scenario imaginable. The truth was, she didn't have anywhere else to go. Her parents were gone, leaving her no next of kin and once she became an adult, the orphanage no longer accepted her back. She had nowhere and Connelly knew that somehow. Still, she could leave, but the chances of her being dead in a month were high.

Again, she felt her stomach twist in tight knots and she leaned over to dry heave. The fog in her head began to clear, being replaced by a piercing headache. She had understood after being with Madame Pomfrey earlier that the headaches were from the spells Connelly used and that explained why they were so strong. She would have rather the fog be present at the moment. When the fog dissipated, the memories became overwhelming.

"_Please, I swear I won't fight…." _

The memories had her on her feet, rushing towards the sink. Her shaking hands came towards her face as if they could stop Connelly's evil smile from invading her mind. She had to shut those memories up or she would not make it out of the bathroom. As it was, she was going to have to explain why she was soaking wet if someone saw her. She did not want to be caught immobile in the shower by some third year Slytherin looking for juicy gossip.

Slowly, she turned her body towards the door. Taking one step at a time, her hand reached for the clod doorknob. Taking one last breath and praying no one was around, she opened the door. It was only a short ways to the staircase leading to the Slytherin common room, but anything could happen in a span of a few steps. No, she could do this…she had to do this.

Taking one step into the hallway, she stilled. Before her nerves got the better of her, she began walking towards the stairs. Her body was still shaking, but she forced her feet to continue moving. She was almost there, the stairs only inches away from her now.

"Would you mind explaining to me why you are out of bed at this hour?"

Emma froze before her foot could hit the first step. Her eyes went wide, staring at the wall in front of her. She knew that voice as well as she knew her own and her blood turned as cold as her body. She dared not turn around. His voice was a mix of anger and curiosity. She tried to swallow, begging that her body would turn to look at him and her voice would start working.

"I asked you a question, girl! Why are you dripping wet?" he asked exasperated.

Slowly, Emma turned to look at the man behind her. When he recognized her, Emma watched his eyes widen just a little. He recovered in an instant, his face going stone again.

"Miss Forester? What on earth are you doing?" he asked low.

"I-I wasn't f-feeling well Professor S-Snape," she stammered.

Even after the words fell from her lips, she could hear the lie in them. His eyes continued to bore into her. Standing a good six inches taller than her, his jet, black hair fell down his shoulders in an untidy way, as if he had just gotten out of bed. As usual, he was wearing all black. She tried to focus on his robes, watching them gently sway at his feet. Anything would do as long as she didn't have to stare at his eyes.

"Indeed," he huffed.

She looked up at Snape a small glimmer of hope that he would let her go began to grow within her. He watched her a few more minutes.

"Am I right to assume that it is not life threatening then. You are walking around completely wet, which you still have not explained why."

"Life threatening, sir?" she asked weakly. The fact was that, yes, it was life threatening, but she couldn't tell him that. "N-no, it isn't life threatening. As for me being wet, I don't have an explanation," she said lamely.

Emma watched the famous sneer make an appearance. He was not happy with her, but when was Snape ever happy? She watched him take a few more steps towards her. She steeled herself not to move away from him. Every part of her wanted to bolt and make a run for it, but it would only make him angrier. She had been at Hogwarts long enough to know how Snape worked. The only saving grace that she had was that he was the head of her House and he was less severe with his own.

"If I catch you out of bed again, Miss Forester, there will be no second chances. As it is, I will allow you to proceed to your room, though, as much as it pains me, I will be taking five points from Slytherin for this incident. Maybe if you have to explain to your fellow Slytherin why they are waking up with five points less than what they went to bed with, it will make you stop and think about venturing out at this time of night!"

Emma flinched at Snape's words. As if the whole of Slytherin hated her to begin with, now she would be even more loathed. For one fleeting moment, Emma thought about just telling him the truth, but then she remembered that he, no matter how much he hated Connelly, would never take a student's word over a teacher's. To make this whole situation worse, she began to feel sick again. Her head was becoming unbearable and she wished she could go back to Madame Pomfrey's, her questions be damned. Emma began to see black dots dance across her vision, she tried closing them and breathing deeply.

"Well, why are you still standing here?" Snape hissed.

It was the final straw. His words sounded as if they were far away. She felt her body become light and when she opened her eyes, she could not see anything but black. The sound of Snape rushing towards her, his robes flowing with his swift movements was the last thing Emma heard before she passed out in his waiting arms.

There was a ringing in her ears, drowning out all other sounds. She squeezed her eyes, trying to get a hold of her pounding headache. There was one good thing happening, she didn't feel her stomach turning anymore. Emma could tell she was lying down on a bed, a soft pillow underneath her head. The ringing began to subside some and she could hear voices in the room surrounding her.

"Physically, I can't find anything wrong with her. Nothing seems to be broken or bleeding. It could be due to stress Merlin knows there is enough of that going around this year."

Emma recognized Madame Pomfrey's voice immediately, which meant she was in the hospital wing. How long she had been here was unclear. Emma could hear others in the room as well.

"She seemed off somehow, like earlier today. I do not know how to explain, but something isn't right with the girl. She had taken a shower with her robes on, fully dressed." It was Snape's voice that spoke. He was speaking in a calm voice, but there was a hint of annoyance present.

"We will leave her here for the night, no sense in waking her up. Obviously, whatever is going on has taken a great deal out of her. Let us allow her the rest she needs tonight." It was Dumbledore this time. Emma had to admit that she was surprised he was here.

"Albus, Severus, there is something I must share with you about my encounter with Miss Forester earlier today."

Emma felt dread at hearing Madame Pomfrey speak. She knew what the woman was about to tell them and how she was going to explain she wasn't sure yet.

"Severus brought the girl in to see me," she began.

"Yes, she had a headache that was affecting her concentration in my class. I felt it prudent to bring her to Poppy," Snape explained to Dumbledore, as if he felt the need to have to explain.

"Yes, well, once you left Severus I began to ease the pain in Miss Forester's head." There was a pause before she continued. "The pain in her head was due to magic, powerful magic. Someone had used magic on this girl and the headache was a side effect of the magic wearing off," she said softly.

"Poppy, are you sure?" Dumbledore asked surprised.

"I am, Albus. I've seen the results of powerful magic before. She showed signs of it with the horrible headache. When I confronted her about it, she became defensive and stormed out."

There was silence. No one knew what to say. Emma felt her heart drop. A small voice in her head told her that this could be a good thing. Maybe this would be all the proof she needed to show them what Connelly was doing to her.

"Shall I begin interrogating the students to find the guilty party? Miss Forester might not be forthcoming with the information." Snape said.

There it was again. They thought it could be a student.

Before Dumbledore could answer, the door to the hospital wing came open and Emma heard someone walking in. The footsteps were long and hard, as if the person was determined to get to their destination. Emma fought the urge to open her eyes and see who walked in, but when they spoke, she didn't have to wonder any longer.

"Is everything alright? I've just been informed that Miss Forester was brought in."

The sound of his voice had Emma shaking under the sheets. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead. It was the voice that she feared above all else. Not even the knowledge that Dumbledore and Snape were close could make the terror ease. He was here for one reason, to make sure she had not talked and told them everything.

Connelly, what are you doing here?" Snape asked snidely.

Emma heard Connelly laugh softly at Snape's rude welcome. To her, the laugh sounded evil. She dug her fingernails into the fabric underneath her, begging to just disappear. The only thing she had going for her was that they thought she was still sleeping. She feared that if they made her look at him, it would all come out of her and then she would be escorted from the school. As slow as she could, she raised her hand to her mouth as she felt a scream on the tip of her tongue. Their attention was on Connelly therefore, they saw nothing.

"Well, Severus, I was probably the last to see her tonight. She was serving detention for me, one case of being tardy and one no show to class you see, nothing serious. She did not look well when I saw her. I asked several times if she needed to come see Poppy, but she declined. I feel horrible. Something told me to bring her anyway."

Emma wanted to throw up. He was lying through his teeth and doing a good job of it. It made her sick to hear him speaking.

"I was not aware of her detention. As head of her House, you are to report to me when one of my students receives detention," Snape seethed.

"My apologies, Severus, being new and all, I did not know that rule," Connelly shot back. His voice was slowly losing its sweetness.

"It is my rule and one that I will see followed!"

"Enough! Alarick, it is okay, you are not at fault for this. Miss Forester will stay the night in here with Poppy and hopefully will be good as new tomorrow. In the future, all I ask is that you report to Severus if one of his students is found in detention," Dumbledore said.

"Of course, Albus," Connelly responded.

"As for your question earlier, Severus, right now I think it is best to speak with Miss Forester before we proceed with anything else. She might reveal what is happening to her faster than we can get a student to admit his wrongdoing."

"Pardon me, Albus, but has someone done something to Miss Forester?" Connelly asked softly.

Emma balled her hands into fists, wanting desperately to scream at him. She wanted to scream that he knew damn well what was going on with her. She was horrified to see that Connelly was correct in saying he had a way with people. He was doing a fine acting job.

"We aren't sure at the moment Alarick, but we will handle that when we find out what's going on," Dumbledore said, not giving any more information than that.

After that, Poppy shooed them all out, saying Emma needed her rest. Connelly hesitated, looking straight at Emma, his eyes hard and angered. Without another word, he turned and left. The three people watched him go until he was out of sight. Poppy turned and walked back to her desk, grabbing her quill and parchment to make her notes on the newest patient.

"Severus, I fear I must ask more of you than I already am," Dumbledore whispered.

"Albus?" Severus asked confused, not sure where he was going with this.

"I must ask that you watch over this girl. As head of her House, you have more access to her. Maybe the culprit will show himself and we can get him before he does more harm to the girl."

"Albus, with all that I'm knee-deep in right now, how can you ask this of me?" Snape said angrily.

"I understand, Severus, but it is either you or I will have to ask Alarick to watch over her. I have to admit I trust you more. I would do it myself, but Voldemort is gaining power by the second and I must put all my efforts into helping Harry, but I will not allow one of my students to be hurt," Dumbledore said.

Without pause, Snape responded, "I'll do it!"

Dumbledore smiled widely, patting Snape on the back. "I thought so," he said chuckling lightly.

For the rest of the night, Emma sat and pondered on the fact that Snape would be watching over her. For one fleeting moment, Emma allowed herself to believe that it would stop. She let herself believe that Snape would protect her, even if he didn't know what he was protecting her from. As the last of the moon's light spread over the grounds at Hogwarts, Emma fought against one lingering question. Would Snape be enough to save her from Connelly?


	6. Lies are Sometimes Easier than Truths

**Hello! I'm back with another chapter and this is a LONG one! I tried to see where I could divide it up and make it two chapters, but it didn't feel right to do it that way, so I kept it intact. This chapter holds a lot of information to answer some of Emma's questions, but it also adds a HUGE question that will be answered in the next chapter! As always, thank you for reading and please don't hesitate to leave a review. They make my day!**

Emma stood from the bed, stretching the muscles in her back. Sleep did not come easy for her, but she got at least four hours, which was better than the previous nights. After Dumbledore and Snape left, the hospital wing grew still and silent, allowing Emma time think of a way out of having to tell them what was happening. She waged a war within herself, one part screaming for her to tell the truth, the other part calling her a fool if she did.

"Good morning, Miss Forester! It's good to see you up and about," Madame Pomfrey said as she walked towards Emma.

Emma gave the older woman a small smile. After all, this was the second time the woman had helped her. Showing a little gratitude wouldn't hurt her. After a final inspection to make sure Emma was fully healed, she was free to go. She walked slowly to the door when Madame Pomfrey spoke.

"Oh, Miss Forester, Professor Snape asked me to inform you that he wishes you to come to his office as soon as you were able to leave the hospital wing."

Emma froze with her hand on the doorknob. Her eyes closed slowly, dread filling her body. She could only guess as to why Snape wanted to see her. He was about to question her on what Madame Pomfrey had revealed to them the night before. Without a word, Emma slipped out into the quite hallway.

The sunlight poured into the windows, sending shadows into the corners to hide. From the closed doors, the sounds of teacher's lectures floated through the empty space surrounding Emma. She realized she had missed most of her classes, but thought she had a pretty good excuse since she was in the hospital wing. She made a wild guess that Dumbledore, or even Snape, had informed her Professors of what was happening.

She continued walking past each closed classroom until the very last one was behind her. Ahead of her was a long corridor leading to the dungeons. One side of the wall was nothing but glass windows overlooking the grounds at Hogwarts. The other side was solid wall except for one lonely room in the middle. Emma wasn't sure what the room was used for. No one was ever seen coming and going from it. Maybe it was just a closet or something.

As she past it, she leaned her neck out to see into the dark, small window on the door. The room was covered in darkness and Emma could not pick out a single object that she recognized. As much as her curiosity was pushing her to open the door and look, she knew that Snape was waiting for her.

Emma continued walking towards the doors to the dungeon, her mind lost in what Snape was going to ask her. She already felt her nerves dancing just under the surface of her skin. Could she tell him the truth? Would he possibly believe her? No, she wasn't that stupid.

Suddenly, a shadow fell onto the part of the floor where the sun was shining. Emma slowed her walk, staring into the shapeless shadow.

"Going somewhere?"

Emma looked up into the very angry face of Connelly. He was sneering at her as if she was some disease. Through his cold, blue eyes furious daggers were shooting straight at her. She jerked back, surprised to see him before her. Emma let out a small gasp of fear as her body began to shake. He was daring to approach her during the daylight when anyone could walk out and see them. Then it hit Emma, she had passed the last of the classrooms two turns ago. There was nothing but the dungeons ahead of her and Emma wasn't so sure Snape would hear her screams if Connelly attacked her.

Her only hope was to turn and run to the nearest classroom. That's exactly what she did. Emma turned so suddenly she almost lost her balance, but fortunately, she kept upright. Behind her, she heard Connelly make a dash for it, coming up right behind her. Before she could make it past the empty classroom, she felt Connelly's hand encircle a good portion of her long, black hair. As hard as he could, he jerked her back. Emma cried out in pain, her cries echoing around the silent hall. She fought against his hold and the pressure of him pulling her back towards him. The harder she fought, the more pain erupted in her head.

Connelly threw her against the wall knocking her to the floor out of breath. Emma lay there, trying her best to breathe air into her lungs, but her battered body was fighting against her. She turned on her stomach, trying to crawl away from Connelly, but only got a couple of inches away. He bent down, grabbing her hair again and pulling her into the darkened classroom. The door was closed gently behind her, sending her into complete darkness.

The hand holding her hair jerked upwards causing Emma to rise to her feet. The pain was intensifying as Connelly's hold grew stronger. She felt herself being thrown against the wall again, this time not able to fall to the floor. Connelly held her up by his body, squishing her firmly between him and the wall. Hot tears of fear and pain coursed down her cheeks, her eyes were wide, unseeing. She could hear him breathing hard in her ear, smell him all around her.

"That wasn't a smart idea Emma," he breathed into her ear.

She tried to buck him off of her, only to receive a quick pull of her hair. She stilled at once, begging him to let her go.

"What have you told them?" Connelly growled.

"N-nothing, I swear i-it," Emma cried.

Connelly's free hand came up and wrapped itself around Emma's throat. The pressure began to build until she was coughing for breath. Emma tried to pry his hands away but he was too strong. He was going to kill her for sure. His anger was coming off of him bathing Emma from head to foot. Connelly thought she had told Dumbledore and Snape something but she hadn't.

"You have no idea what you almost ruined, Emma. You think I'm the scariest thing out there? You screw this up for the both of us and you'll see just how scary this can get!"

Emma bucked him again, trying to get his hands free of her neck. Connelly's hold let up a little allowing air to flow down her throat. She sucked it in as if she had tasted nothing sweeter. As usual, his words made no sense and anger started to build within her mixing with the fear.

"I'm n-not…playing your l-little game anymore!" she said through clenched teeth.

Connelly laughed, sending chills down Emma's spine. Before she could prepare herself his fist landed in the middle of her stomach, balling her over in excruciating pain.

"You stupid, idiot girl, you think this is a game?" Connelly spat. "This is as real as it gets and if you screw this up, he will kill me before I can bat an eye. You think I'm afraid of Dumbledore? You think I'm afraid of Snape?" he said laughing.

Emma felt the pain subside, sending her stomach turning. How many times was the record for someone throwing up in a span of a few hours? Emma wasn't sure, but she knew she was close to the record.

"How can I think it anything but a game when you're telling me nothing," Emma cried.

"Lumos," Connelly whispered.

Suddenly, brilliant, white light illuminated the small space where they were standing. Emma's pain-filled face was staring straight at Connelly's wand. He had it pointed millimeters from her nose. Emma swallowed hard, fearing what he was to do next. His angered face glowed in the small light, sending her nerves on end.

"You want to know?" he said with a chuckle. "Everything you've ever known has been a lie, Emma. Your whole entire existence has been nothing but a false illusion."

Emma flinched, Connelly's words sending her head spiraling. She tried to jerk away from him for the third time, but his hold on her only tightened.

"The greatest part," he said, leaning down to smell her hair. "Dumbledore, powerful, all-knowing Dumbledore doesn't even have a clue!" His laugh pierced the silence around the darkened room.

"What are you saying," Emma asked him, her whole body going into shock.

"I'm saying that your mommy and daddy didn't leave you on the doorstep of that orphanage. They didn't just disappear! I knew your parents and on the night you were born we took you before the Dark Lord and he bonded you to someone…he bonded you to me!"

Emma gasped at this revelation. Her skin became ice cold, her blood growing even colder. Why would her parents do such a thing? How could they do such a thing?

Connelly chuckled at Emma's shocked expression, "Mommy and daddy were Death Eaters, Emma! Yes, that's right, murdering Death Eaters!" he whispered.

"Liar!" Emma screamed.

What Connelly was saying was too much. He was lying, had to be. He tightened his hold, causing her to still instantly. The pressure was back against her neck, her air cut off.

"You think you were just left on the doorstep of that orphanage by chance? No, someone took you from them…from me! Someone stole you away in the night while we were out doing the Dark Lord's bidding. We only learned too late what had happened, but I got my revenge on the traitor!" Connelly leaned in close, as if to kiss her. Emma fought against him with everything she had. "Your father was the Dark Lord's right hand man and I was destined to take his place one day with you by my side. With that in mind, I tortured that arrogant bastard till he was no more than a steaming pile of meat on the floor, but he never talked. He never told me where he had taken you or why."

"Shut up!" Emma wheezed through the pressure on her neck.

Connelly threw Emma to the floor. She only had an instant to throw her hands out and protect her face from the brunt of the fall. She lay on the floor not knowing what would come next. The small light from Connelly's wand crept closer to her. Emma braced herself for the next wave of attack. She felt him kneel down beside her, his breath sounding loud in her ears.

"If you don't believe me, there is a place in Hogsmeade, sort of like a library if you will. There, you will find all the records dating back twenty years for residence of Hogsmeade. In those records, you will find the names of Keenan and Jessica Brickerton, your real parents," he said gently.

Emma slowly turned her tear-stained face towards Connelly. "Hogsmeade?" she croaked.

Before Connelly answered, he bent down, grabbing Emma by her arms and standing her back on her feet. She swayed, his words causing her head to spin. He held her gently, but she was far too numb to care.

"You have a trip to Hogsmeade coming up this weekend. I suggest you do as I ask if you want answers…the real answers and not silly lies."

With that, Connelly let go of her and turned to leave. As he opened the door, Emma stopped him.

"Why? Why are you doing this to me?" she cried.

Without turning he responded, "That stupid git, Snape, has seen to it that our detention sessions are at an end. I was planning on sharing the information with you tonight, but they have suspected something is happening with you," he paused, turning to look at Emma. "I feel that when you truly know who you are and what the Dark Lord and your parents did all those years ago, you will come to me on your own."

"Never!" Emma whispered.

Connelly stared at her with his cold, blue eyes. Slowly, a smile began to break out on his face, a smile that sent shivers down Emma's spine. She hated him more with each passing second, wishing nothing but for him to just die and leave her be. Her entire body was shaking, but she wasn't sure if it was from fear or red, hot hatred.

"We will see about that," he said quietly.

Emma stood in the dark long after Connelly had left. His words swirled through her mind like a movie reel. Was he really telling her the truth? Were her parents Death Eaters? Emma shook her head furiously, as if to answer her own questions.

Snape was waiting, Emma knew. Somehow she had to find the strength to pull herself together. Through the many horrible questions in her mind, she slowly wiped the tears from her face. Inside, she felt herself go numb. At the end of the week, she would go to Hogsmeade, that decision already made, but if she did that, would she find answers that she didn't want? Would it change her whole perception of who she was? She closed her eyes, praying it was another one of Connelly's sick jokes.

With a shaky hand, she grabbed the door handle and turned it. It opened with ease and she slipped back out into the silent hallway. The classes, behind her, continued to go on as if Emma's whole world wasn't crashing down around her. She looked around expecting Connelly to jump out at her, but he never did.

She walked down the stairs of the dungeons as if she were walking to her death. Fear reared its ugly head at the thought that Snape would see straight through her void expression. She didn't want to be here, nor do this now, but she had no choice. If she chose not to go, something told her it would be far worse on her. A stubborn tear ran its course down Emma's cheek and she swiped at it angrily.

Snape's office door came into view and Emma took a long, deep breath. Her nerves were fried, but she would battle through this. Whatever Snape threw at her, she would take it with a strong front. She knew all too well he was expecting her to reveal what was happening to her. She would refuse, not because she wanted to protect that monster, but because she had unanswered questions. If it was proven that Connelly was telling the truth, Emma would have to know the whole truth. It killed her to know that Connelly had played his trump card. It killed her to know that he now had her right where he wanted her.

Her knuckles knocked hard on the solid, black door, her heart hammering as loud as the knocking. Emma prayed that Snape wouldn't be in there. She prayed that he wouldn't answer the door and she could go back to her room and forget this whole day. Her prayers stopped short as the door was jerked open.

Snape stood before her, his eyes watching her closely. He did not speak but continued to stare. Emma didn't look away, she refused to look away. She had done nothing wrong so let him stare.

"Miss Forester," Snape drawled.

"Professor Snape, you wanted to see me?" Emma said.

With a slight hesitation, Snape replied, "Indeed. Please, come in," he said as he stepped back, allowing her a wide berth into his office.

Emma walked in, feeling the chilly air surrounding the room. She shivered, not able to stop it. If Snape saw, he never showed. She looked around, noticing how bare the room was. All that could be seen was Snape's desk with two chairs sitting directly in front of the black wooden desk. There were two candelabras sitting in the corners of the room, the only light shining through the darkness. If Emma didn't know whose office this belonged to, she would think the setting somewhat intimate, but the realization of Snape behind her snuffed that thought out of her head immediately.

"Please, have a seat," he said, coming around her and pointing to one of the two seats in front of his desk.

Emma did as he asked. The chair was surprisingly comfortable, its leather feeling soft to the touch. Snape went around to the other side of the desk, taking a seat in front of her. She watched him gracefully lay his arms on the table, one across the other. Seconds passed without a word, both looking at the other. It gave Emma a chance to study her head of House. His signature black suit lay crisply across his body. His hair looked smoother than she had remembered seeing it. The ends lay lightly on his shoulders. His face is what grabbed her attention. He looked tired, as if he had not slept in days. His hard, coal-black eyes drooped somewhat, underneath them were the first signs of sleep deprived bags. Emma wondered what secrets kept him up at night.

"Do you know why I asked you to come, Miss Forester," Snape asked, bringing Emma out of her thoughts.

"I-I think so," she replied in a small voice.

"Are you going to tell me what is going on, or am I just wasting my time?"

Emma could see Snape fighting against the sneer that begged to make an appearance. She was surprised to see his face stay calm. He was trying to be civil towards her. She didn't know if that made her relived or more nervous.

Taking a deep breath, Emma spoke, "To what are you referring to, sir?"

She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. The very thought of hiding what was happening went against everything she felt. She tried to reassure herself that this was the only way by reminder herself that Snape wouldn't believe her anyway. It was her word against a teacher's.

Snape's lips curled into a half smile, but there was no happiness in the act. It was his way of sneering without actually sneering. She swallowed hard, steeling her nerves.

"You know what I'm referring to. But if you must, I'm referring to someone using magic on you. I want to know who it is and why."

A voice screamed in her head to tell him. It screamed for her to finally put it to an end before the damage was completely done. Emma opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She tried again and still only air seeped out of her dry throat. His eyes became hard and angry and Emma lost what little nerve she had to tell him.

"Why do you protect someone that is hurting you, Miss Forester? Is this some sick joke?" Snape spat.

Emma flinched at his words. He had no clue of how much this wasn't a joke. He had no idea how far out of the ballpark this was from a joke. Snape thought she was protecting that monster. The voice in her head rose up, its words stinging the back of her eyes. It whispered that she was doing exactly that…protecting Connelly.

"Please don't do this, Professor Snape," Emma whispered.

His eyes softened a bit. They still held their hardness, but the anger had lessened some. Emma looked away, her eyes roaming to the candelabras. The light from the candles moved together, as if in one huge dance. She felt entranced as she watched them flow back and forth.

"I want to help you, but only if you allow me to," Snape said softly.

Emma opened her mouth to speak again, but Snape's words stopped her. "All you have to do is give me the name of the student and I will take care of it from there."

She let out a sigh in the place of words. Snape sat patiently, waiting for her to do as he asked. If only he had not said the last sentence. It was the one thing that shut Emma up and off to the idea of relying on Snape.

"I don't need your help, Professor, everything is fine," she said so low she wasn't sure he heard her.

The exasperated sigh that came from him told her otherwise. He had heard her loud and clear. He stood from his seat, pacing around in front of the desk. His hands were held firmly behind his back. She could feel the anger falling off of him and it was directed straight towards her. Emma didn't blame him.

"I could always force it from you, Miss Forester. I could pry open your mind and take it from you," he said, his voice cold and emotionless.

Emma's eyes went wide. Snape would never…or would he? He would see all that Connelly had done. Maybe it would be enough.

"I guess you could, couldn't you?" Emma whispered.

"But, you know I won't, don't' you?" he said, his lips barely moving.

The truth was, she didn't know. They stared at one another the world seemed to stop on its axis. Emma slowly began to feel herself slipping into his black-coal eyes. He never moved, never blinked. She wondered absentmindedly if this was what Legilimency felt like, though she never felt the pricking of Snape's mind inside hers. This was something different, something strange but not uncomfortable.

"I'll be watching your every move, Miss Forester. Where you go, I will be there. Whomever you speak to, I will know it. You don't want to help me, for whatever reason, that's fine, but I will find out who is harming you."

Every single syllable was crisp and given its own moment in the sun. Emma did not reply, knowing there was nothing she could say. Snape had made his mind up to follow her like a shadow. She welcomed this without him ever realizing. What he did not understand was while he was around her, Connelly could not touch her. He would be protecting her without even knowing it. Emma wanted to smile and shout with joy, but she dared not move a muscle. She wanted to say thank you, but dared not open her mouth.

"You are to report to me every night before curfew. I will be watching you through the day and if this person chooses to show himself, I'll be waiting. I suggest you not stand in my way, Miss Forester. If it is found that you are a part of this in any way, I'll see to it that you are expelled immediately. As for the student responsible for this, his punishment will be far worse."

Emma nodded her head, still not allowing herself to speak. Snape meant every word he was saying, she was sure of it. Her only hope was that he would look past the students and to Connelly, someone that he had not even thought of, his own peer.

"You may go now," Snape said, sitting back in his chair behind the black wooden table.

Emma stood on shaking legs. She tried to cover it as much as possible, but Snape saw how her body shook. She shoved her hands inside her robes, praying for fresh air. She needed to be outside away from the dungeons, away from those black-coal eyes. It took everything she had not to run from the room.

The week flew by in a blur of classes and Snape's form being seen everywhere. If the other students noticed him in places he would otherwise not be, none of them said anything. Emma could feel his eyes upon her, his presence surrounding her. Every now and then, she would steal a quick glance around and her eyes would always fall on him.

It started slow, but soon it built to a feeling she couldn't deny. Knowing he was there, no matter the scowl or hard look, she was glad he was there. The knowledge that she was safe from Connelly, as least for the time being, was one that sent her soaring. He couldn't touch her and hadn't since the day in the dark room. She had seen Connelly, of course, and his reaction was always the same. He would look at her, his eyes speaking words he could not. He would look away from her just a fraction of an inch, looking towards the shadow in the corner and he would disappear, as if a leaf in the wind. She could only imagine the fury within him at not being able to get near her.

Emma was no fool to believe that it would last forever. She knew that one day Snape would grow tired of his watch and he would leave her be. But, for now, she would hold on to his presence with every step she took. More than once, she found herself surprised that a man like Snape could comfort her just by being there, but she couldn't deny that she was fully aware of his presence and the peace that came with it.

Saturday came, the day of the Hogsmeade trip. Emma sat at the end of her bed, the sun not quite awake in the sky. She was already dressed in a red turtleneck and dark blue jeans. She sat with her forearms resting against her knees, her hands slightly shaking in front of her. The thought that, soon, the true identity of her parents would be revealed weighed heavily on her shoulders. Emma did not know what to expect, but her stomach turned with nervousness. She wanted to take one of her early morning runs, but the thought of running into Connelly had all but killed that activity.

Two hours passed and soon the school was alive with activity. The students heading to Hogsmeade were awake and dressed, excitement filled the air. Emma found herself in a crowd of excited students. She wished she could be as excited, but the more she thought about going, the more she felt scared.

Looking around, her eyes searched for the one person that had become a constant in her life that week. He was nowhere to be found but Connelly was. He was standing at the doorway leading out of the school. Emma felt a shiver run down her spine. Was he coming too? Would he want to be there when she looked for information on the people who he claimed were her parents? For a moment, Emma thought about not going. If her choices were to stay in the dark about who she really was, or have Connelly looking over her shoulder as her world came crashing down, she would choose to remain in the dark.

"Severus, will you be joining us today?" Mcgonagall said. She did not hide the surprise in her voice.

Emma jumped slightly as she felt someone stand beside her. She didn't have to look over to know that Snape was there. It was the feeling that fell upon her that told her all she needed to know. The nervousness melted immediately as she was surrounded by his shadow. Connelly disappeared in Emma's vision. She saw nothing but Snape.

"Yes, Minerva, I thought I would accompany the students if that is okay," he said quietly.

"Certainly! The more eyes we have watching them the better," she said.

"My thought exactly," Snape said.

So it was settled. For the first time in six years that Emma could remember, Snape was going to Hogsmeade with the students. She knew exactly why he was going and she was thankful. It meant that Connelly couldn't get close to her and that meant he wouldn't be there when she went searching for answers. The only question now was how she would do her search with Snape watching her so closely. Maybe he wouldn't bother her, just stand in the shadows like he normally did. She would have to wait and see.

Reaching the villiage, the students began to break apart. Some went to the Hog's Head, already tasting the Butterbeer on their tongues. Some went searching for new quills and parchments, while others searched for the next funny object at the joke shop.

Emma stood in the middle of the street, looking at all the shops and homes. Already, smoke bellowed from the many chimneys showing the village coming to life in the early morning. She watched Snape walk along the sidewalk, taking in the many fabrics and souvenirs from the shops. He seemed to not be paying her any attention, but was it just an act? Emma wasn't sure, but she took this opportunity to slip into the crowd, heading towards a lone building at the end of the street.

It was a large white building, almost in the center of the town. Above the doorway a sign read "Hogsmeade History and Information". This was her destination. Emma could feel it in her heart. Within the large white building, she could possibly learn who are parents were. With one last glance behind her to where Snape still stood, Emma began walking towards the front entrance.

Inside, the building was quiet. There were only a handful of people present, most of them working. In front of her was a vast array of bookshelves, looking old enough to be hundreds of years old. Books rested in them, looking just as old. They reached from the floor to the circular ceiling. To get to the center of the room and the bookshelves, Emma had to walk down a long corridor. Portraits of different places in Hogsmeade hung on either side of Emma. She studied each one of them as she passed, all coming alive with the beauty of the village. Black marble covered the floor of the building shining so brightly Emma could see her reflection. It was quite surprising to see such beauty in a small town like Hogsmeade.

She came to a large circular desk. A woman sat behind it, her whole attention going towards her quill and parchment. She gave no notice to Emma's presence. Emma looked around wondering if she was supposed to go somewhere else, but the sign on the desk let it be known that this was the front desk. She cleared her throat to try and get the attention of the woman.

Several more seconds rolled by and finally the lady at the desk slowly looked up. Emma gave her a small smile and the woman returned it.

"May I help you," she asked in a pristine voice.

"Yes ma'am, I was looking for some information on two people who used to live here," Emma said.

The woman shook her head in understanding as she studied Emma. She looked to be in her mid-forties. Her silver hair was worn in a tight bun, showing her long neckline perfectly. Her face held a hint of beauty from her younger years, but it was her eyes that Emma noticed the most. They were deep lavender and very hard to look away from. They were stern, yet soft all in one.

"You've come to the right place, dear. Do you happen to know the name?" she asked with a hint of an accent Emma couldn't put her finger on.

"K-Keenan and Jessica Brickerton." Emma barely was able to say their names.

If the name sounded familiar to the woman, she never let it show. She stared at Emma, shaking her head and looking as if she were trying to decide on where to begin the search.

"Brickerton? I guess you'll need to go to bookshelf B. You'll find what you're looking for on the fourth row. They are in alphabetical order so you shouldn't have that much trouble finding it. If you run into some trouble, just come and get me and I'll try to help."

Emma said her thanks and began walking over to the bookshelves. They were massive, holding large amounts of contents. Emma worried that she wouldn't have enough time to find what she was looking for, but what else could she do? She was here no way she was backing down now. Her legs felt like they weighed a ton. Her heart rate was elevated beyond what it should have been.

Bookshelf B came into view and Emma sucked in a breath. She would know soon enough the answers to her questions. She would learn if these people were her parents, or if Connelly was playing some sick joke on her. Either way, she felt a foreboding in the pit of her stomach.

Her fingers lightly touched the ancient books lining down a row as far as the eyes could see. The woman had said the fourth row. Emma counted up from the bottom and went to work on finding the name she was looking for.

"Brantley, Bree, Brease," she whispered as she scanned the various names. "Brice, Brick, Brickerton."

There it sat. Emma stared at it, as if would stand on its own and jump into her hands. For a few moments, she was too overcome with fear to touch the book. A thought occurred to her as she stared at the gold-plated name. She could just walk away, just walk out of the large white building and pretend the name didn't exist. She could pretend that the book didn't exist. It would be so easy to just let everything remain how it was. Would it not be better to believe you didn't know where you came from than to find out your parents were murderers? Yes, it would be easier, but Emma knew that sooner or later it would eat away at her and she would be standing in this very place again.

With that thought, she slid the large book from its place. It was made of brown leather with gold trimming on the front and side. The name Brickerton looked back at her as she stared down at it. She held it as if it were something precious and at the same time she wanted to throw it against the wall.

Her feet moved on their own towards a small table. Dust flew from the old book as Emma sat it down. It looked as though no one had ever touched it. With a long, deep sigh, Emma began to open the book.

The first few pages were the names of the House of Brickerton, none of which Emma recognized. There were pictures as well. Men standing in long, black coats and hats, their faces directed towards Emma. Not one of them held a smile. There were four men in all. Emma slowly flipped the picture over, but there were no names on the back. She took another look, trying to find something familiar, anything.

The next picture showed a group of four women. All of them were breathtakingly beautiful, even the oldest who looked to be in her late sixties. They stood in dresses that spoke of money, a lot of money. Like the men, their eyes stared at Emma, yet she felt no familiarity from them. As with the other picture, there were no names written on the back.

Emma skimmed through the rest of the pictures, nothing sticking out to her. She was beginning to believe this was a dead end and Connelly really was playing a sick joke on her. That was until she stopped on the very last picture. There stood a man and woman in fashionable clothing. The man was quite handsome with long, black hair and a chiseled jaw. The woman was absolutely beautiful. She, too, had long black hair worn up in a loose bun. Her long tendrils framed her round face. It was almost the same round face that Emma looked at every day in the mirror. The similarities were uncanny. The woman held a grace and youthfulness about her that suggested she was around Emma's age in the picture.

"Oh Merlin," Emma whispered.

There was a baby in the woman's arms. The tiny thing was the only one smiling. Emma felt her breath being knocked out of her thinking the baby was her. She turned the picture over so suddenly that it made a loud slap on the desk. Emma closed her eyes, trying to reign in her fear. She took each breath one at a time, slowing them down to slow her heart. She knew there was a possibility that Connelly was telling the truth. She was far too deep into this to stop now.

Opening her eyes, she stared down at a news-clipping from the Daily Prophet. It was dated two years before she was born. The title read, "The Houses of Brickerton and Kingsley Unite." She silently read the article as it talked of the wedding of the century combining two powerful families with the joining of Sir. Ian Brickerton's only son and Earl Jameson Kingsley's youngest daughter in holy matrimony. Keenan Brickerton and Jessica Kingsley would be married in front of five hundred well-wishers. The man in the picture was an older version of Keenan and Emma guessed this would be his father. The other man, shaking Mr. Brickerton's hand had to be Mr. Kingsley, Jessica's father.

Emma skimmed past the next few pages, reading over them as fast as she could. Her hands shook every time they touched the surface of the papers, but she kept her mind clear and focused. There were Brickerton Death Certificates showing almost all of the family now dead. Emma looked at Ian Brickerton's Death Certificate and noticed he had died two years from the date of his only son's wedding. Next, she read about the burial sites for each family member, all of whom were buried not far from where she sat now.

A sudden thought hit Emma and she almost knocked the whole book on the floor as she flipped back to the Death Certificates. She looked and looked again, but it wasn't there. Everyone was here except for two people…Keenan and Jennifer Brickerton. Neither name looked up at Emma from the book. There Death Certificates were nowhere to be found.

Emma placed that thought in the back of her mind and she would come back to it later. Right now, she would go forward searching for more information. As if the book heard her, a small slip of paper fell to the floor. Emma looked down at it, her face scrunching up in confusion. It was another news article from the Daily Prophet.

"Today, Ministry authorities found the remains of a man known to be that of Bradley Kingston, son of Earl Jameson Kingston. Not much information was given to the public, but what is known is the condition of the body. Information gathered at the scene shows that dark magic was involved and that the body was unrecognizable. It has been thought that Bradley, his sister Jessica Brickerton and her husband Keenan Brickerton have been sympathizers to Dark Lord Voldemort. Has that affiliation finally caught up with Mr. Kingsley? No one knows for sure at this point, but sources have said that both Jessica and Keenan Brickerton are nowhere to be found. Ministry authorities are looking to the wizarding public for any information on the murder and the whereabouts of Mr. and Mrs. Brickerton. As you know, Mr. and Mrs. Brickerton have been in the spotlight recently after the sudden abduction of their daughter, Emma. She was taken from the couple's home in Hogsmeade while they were away. If you have any information please contact the Ministry of Magic Authorities at once," Emma whispered.

Her eyes had grown wide with disbelief. Her face shown as white as the building she sat in. She reread the article numerous times feeling sick to her stomach. As much as she didn't want to, she laid the article aside, digging deeper into the book. She wanted to find a news article on the kidnapping and find it she did.

There was a picture to go along with the piece. It showed Jessica Brickerton. Gone was the lovely, youthful face and in its place was the face of a mad woman. She screamed her silent words towards Emma, her eyes showing madness. Her husband stood behind her, keeping her from falling to the ground. The article told of baby Brickerton being snatched away in the middle of the night, her unsuspecting parents not there to protect her. The article never said why they weren't there. The picture played the same scene, the woman's face seared into Emma's mind. The woman still looked so much like Emma, madness and all.

She trudged on, looking at numerous articles on family deaths and births, articles that spoke of suspicion that the Brickerton's were standing beside Dark Lord Voldemort. Everywhere she looked, the Brickerton name and Voldemort were connected. Keenan and Jessica Brickerton were the ones suspected above all other Brickertons, even Bradley.

Emma gasped; tears sprang to her eyes as she saw what awaited her at the bottom of the pile. Two pictures stuck out like sore thumbs. One was of Keenan and the other of Jessica. Both were taken at Azkaban. They looked out at Emma, a maddening gleam in their eyes. It felt so evil. They had been captured one year after the baby had been taken, one year after Jessica's brother had been found murdered. Two weeks after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was defeated by Harry Potter.

Under their pictures read, "Sympathizer to the Dark Lord, murderer, danger to society." Underneath their crimes read four words that drove a dagger into Emma's chest, "Life in Azkaban Prison."

"Your mother was so beautiful. You remind me of her every time I look at you."

Emma slowly closed her eyes hearing the voice behind her. It was Connelly, but not even he could scare her as much as what she held in front of her. There was no solid proof that any of this related to her, that she was baby Brickerton, but one look at the woman told her all that she needed to know. The physical similarities were too striking to doubt. Emma even saw some physical traits of hers in Keenan.

The soft touch of Connelly's hand came to rest on her shoulders, but Emma was too much in shock to care. Her eyes stared at the two pictures from Azkaban, the insanity and evilness dripping from their eyes.

"Now that you know who you truly are, it's time to know the rest," Connelly whispered in her ear.

Emma made no attempt to speak. She had no voice to tell him to go away. She could only stare at the pictures before her as the information absorbed into her frazzled mind. These people were truly her parents, Keenan and Jessica Brickerton, and they were exactly what Connelly had said they were…Death Eaters.

"The man you killed, what was his name?" Emma whispered hoarsely.

"Bradley Kingsley, your uncle. He should have known better than to do what he did!" Connelly hissed.

Emma looked up at him, her eyes showing her disbelief. "My last name is Forester not Brickerton, you monster," she said.

Connelly just smiled at her. It looked almost as evil as her parent's smiles. He just shrugged his shoulders as if they were discussing the weather and if it might rain that day. Emma never expected him to surprise her with just how horrible he was, but he had proven her wrong once again.

"It's time that you know the rest of the story, Emma, and why we will be together."

"I've heard and seen enough," Emma spat as she rose to her feet to leave. Connelly watched her, not making a move to stop her. Turning, she left the book on the table, not having the courage to touch it again.

"They're still alive, Emma. They ask about you often, though they don't know I've found you," he called out.

She stopped in mid-walk, almost falling down. Had she really heard him right? Emma turned to look at him, to read his face to see if it was a lie. Connelly looked her straight in the eyes, not backing down.

"They're still alive?" Emma breathed.

Connelly nodded his head yes. "Soon, you will be reunited with them, love. Soon we will all be reunited. He's coming Emma, the Dark Lord is coming again and we will stand beside him like it should have always been," he said quietly.

"You're crazy," she scoffed in anger.

Turning, she started to walk away from him again, wanting as far away from Connelly as possible. Through the shock, she had had no time to be frightened of the fact she was alone in the building with him. Snape was nowhere to be seen.

"You have a scar on your forearm, no? Ever wonder where that scar came from?"

When Emma heard his question, her hand immediately went to the place he was referring to, as if awaking her senses, the scar seared in pain. She grunted through the pain, looking down at her arm. It had always been there. The long, straight scar ran from her palm to forearm. Ever since the start of the school year, it had begun to bother her, burning one minute, freezing the next. Even the color of the scar had changed, turning darker.

"It is because you have found your blood-bond, Emma," Connelly said, seeing her study the scar. "It is because finally we have been reunited. I've been waiting for it to burn as it does now for so long."

She didn't want to know. She didn't want to know anything Connelly was saying. The most horrible thoughts flew through her mind as to what he meant and none of them were worth speaking. She had heard and seen enough.

"Leave me alone," she whispered. With that, she ran from the building, not looking back behind her.

Her vision was blurred by the tears in her eyes. She ran from Connelly and the truth of who her real parents were and where she came from. It was worse than she could have ever imagined and the knowledge that those people were still alive made it all the more horrible.

She ran through the crowd of people, their faces blurred. Where she was running to she wasn't sure, but it would be better than the white building. Anywhere would be better than where she had come from. All around her chatter and laughter rose towards the sky. Emma wondered how these people could be so happy when her whole world was falling down around her.

Suddenly, something grabbed her by the arm and she cried out in surprise. Whirling around, she came face to face with Snape. His eyes were boring into her with every ounce of anger he could muster. Emma did not care. Just the thought that he was here and she was safe was enough for her at this point. Let him yell till his voice was hoarse just as long as he stayed with her.

Before she could stop herself, she threw her arms around Snape's waist, holding him as tightly as she could. At first, he stood rigid as if Emma had used a stunning charm on him. She slammed her eyes shut wanting to be anywhere but Hogsmeade.

There was a whirling sound around her and the light was cut off. Before she knew it, Emma was walking, being guided through the crowd. When her eyes opened, she saw nothing but black and felt soft fabric against her cheek. It took her a moment, but she realized Snape had thrown his cloak over her, shielding her from the prying eyes of the crowd. She would trust him to lead the way.

They came to a stop and his cloak was thrown from her letting in the bright sunlight. Emma was standing in the middle of a room and it could only be that of the rooms above the Three Broomsticks. She could hear Snape pacing back and forth behind her, his anger coming out in mumbled words.

He turned to her as he spoke, "So, he's here? Did he try to attack you? Did he hurt you?" he asked roughly.

Emma shook her head no, which in all honesty was the truth. Connelly had not tried to harm her. If she allowed herself to think about it, it would confuse her too much. Snape watched her, his eyes showing that he didn't believe a word she said.

"Where did you go?" he demanded.

Emma studied him for a moment before speaking. As her heart calmed down and her mind cleared, she noticed something that surprised her. Behind the anger in his eyes, she could swear that she saw fear. That was impossible, Snape didn't care about her. He only cared about catching someone that was using dark magic on a student. She couldn't allow herself to think anything more than that, yet the emotion was right underneath the surface.

"Hogsmeade History and Information," she said quietly.

Snape's face showed his surprise and confusion. "Why?" he drawled.

Emma couldn't tell him the truth. She wasn't sure of the whole truth herself yet. What could she say to him? An idea came to her mind so crazy, but she had to ask it. He had experience in the Dark Arts, wanting nothing more than to teach the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, which meant he had to have some knowledge.

"I was looking up information about a ritual that families in Hogsmeade were known to have performed," she lied.

"And what, might I ask, would that be?" Snape asked, his concern growing.

With a deep breath, Emma answered, "Blood-bonding."

The anger vanished from Snape's face, but it wasn't the only thing that vanished. As if it were possible, Emma watched as Snape's face lost what little color it had, turning stark white. All that was left now was disbelief and something that scared her more than anything. Snape's whole face looked at her in fear.

"What did you say?" he whispered.


	7. Trust is as Fragile as Glass

**Here's a smaller chapter than the one before…lol! Hope you enjoy and please review. Thanks for reading….**

"Why would you ask me that?" Snape said slowly. Emma watched as he walked towards her, his steps slow and careful. His black-orbs stared at her, through her. She fought the urge to grab her arm. Her scar was searing with pain, but she dared not move her hand over it for fear of Snape seeing her actions. Until she knew what she was dealing with, she could give nothing away.

"I-I was just curious," she said quietly.

As he came upon her, Emma side stepped him, walking towards the window. Looking down, it gave her a clear view of the streets of Hogsmeade. People went about their day shopping and drinking at the pubs.

"You were just-curious," Snape said, drawing out the last word.

Emma turned to him, nodding her head. "That's all, just curious."

Color began to take shape in Snape's face again. He looked relieved and tired all in one. Slowly, he turned from her, his hand coming up to rub his face. Emma felt dread starting in the pit of her stomach and rising to her head. If asking Snape what Blood-Bonding was had caused this reaction in him, it could not be good.

"Put it out of your mind, Miss Forester. Unless there is more you aren't telling me?"

The question floated in the air like a balloon. She wanted to open her mouth, wanted to tell him everything and yet nothing would come out. This was her battle to fight and hers alone. Connelly had made sure of that. Emma turned away from Snape, her arm holding the scar aching to an all-time high. She breathed deeply, trying to get her mind off the pain.

"Please, tell me so I can help you," Snape whispered behind her.

Tears began forming in her eyes, Hogsmeade growing blurry. His voice was so sincere, as if he cared. She heard him walking up behind her and she begged for her feet to move. Instead, she remained as still as stone feeling him a few inches away. Emma closed her eyes as the first sounds of her sob fell from her mouth.

Snape grabbed her shoulders, turning her towards him. Emma kept her eyes shut, not having the strength to look at him yet. The next moment caught her by surprise, for she never imagined Snape to do what he did. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her, bringing her to him. It was enough to open the dam and she let everything pour from her. She sobbed in his robes and he stood still, allowing her to let it go.

"You do not have to do this alone, Emma," Snape whispered. It would come to her attention later that Snape had called her by her first name. It was the first time in six years that he had called her Emma. Her fingernails dug into the fabric of his robes, her eyes slammed shut through the pain.

"You won't believe me," she whispered through sobs.

"Let me be the judge of that," he answered.

Slowly, she moved away from him, raising her tear-stained face to look up at Snape. His eyes watched her intently, showing his concern. Emma reached down and grabbed the sleeve of her shirt. Her heart began to beat out of control. Was she really about to do this? Was she really about to show Snape her scar? Something deep in the soul told her she could trust him.

Snape dropped his eyes, watching as the sleeve inched up at a snail's speed. Emma, the tears slipping on her uncovered skin, continued to move the sleeve up until finally the long scar was visible. At first, there was no response from Snape. Emma looked up, seeing his eyes staring at the mark on her arm.

He jerked away from her, as if being burned. Snape's black-orbs grew wide, staring at the scar. Emma wanted to kick herself for her decision as she watched Snape retreat from her. He continued to move back until he bumped into the far wall. Still, his eyes stared at the visible scar. She had made the decision to show him and now she would proceed and get answers. If it cost her everything then so be it, she had nothing left anyway.

"Now, Professor Snape, would you please explain to me what Blood-bonding is," Emma said through tears.

His wide-eyes shot up to look at her. The answers were written on his face. Whatever he would tell her, or whatever she would find out would not be good.

"I-it would take someone with considerable amount of magic to perform a Blood-bond. N-not many can do it," he said in a hushed voice.

Emma walked towards Snape, her desperation rising by the second. "Tell me," she begged.

Not a word was spoken. Snape looked to be in shock, still staring at the scar. "You know what this means, don't you," Emma whispered.

He jerked his eyes back to her, something passing in those black-orbs. She watched as his shock disappeared. His face became like stone, the emotions washed from every inch of his being. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said quietly.

Emma felt as if he had stabbed her in the heart. Snape was lying to her, she could feel it. He began to straighten up to full height. His eyes stealing one last look at the scar. "Let it go, Miss Forester. Whatever gave you that scar is more than you want to delve in to. If the one who gave it to you has not come forth, it is best you forget all about it."

Emma could not believe what she was hearing. Snape had said he would help her if she just let him and here she was asking for his help. He was turning away from her. He was going back on what he promised. Should she even be surprised? It was Snape after all.

He turned away from her. His robes bellowed out from his body with his sudden movements. Emma felt desperate. Snape was about to walk out of the room without any questions being answered. Something was keeping him from telling her the truth and she wasn't sure what it was. No matter, he was her only hope. Snape grabbed the doorknob ready to turn it when she spoke.

"And what if the one who gave me this scar has come forth? What do I do then," she whispered.

It was enough to freeze Snape in his tracks. His hand began to shake on the doorknob. Snape slowly turned towards Emma, his face showing his fear. She wanted to run to him like she had done earlier. She wanted him to hold her and tell her she was going to be okay, but he just stared at her, his face white and frozen.

"Then, it would mean that the person hurting you isn't-," he began, but the sentence died in his throat.

Emma watched as the truth sunk in and Snape realized that it was no student. His eyes slowly closed, his breath coming out in one, big breath. Though she had shaken him to his very core, it had worked. Snape let go of the doorknob and walked towards Emma. He took a hold of her arm and raised it towards him. She held still as his fingers ran over the scar.

"Blood-bonding is a sacred ritual that has been around since the start of time," Snape said softly, his fingers still touching the scar. "It takes a large amount of dark magic to bind your soul with another. It is usually one-sided, which means that one party is not aware of what is happening."

"It happened when I was a baby," Emma breathed. His touch was effecting her in ways she wasn't used to. She had to focus. What he was saying was important and she had to push through the feelings his touch was causing within her.

"It is most common at that age," Snape said.

"What does it mean," Emma asked more urgently.

Snape did not answer. Silence filled the room surrounding them and Emma was not sure that she would receive an answer at all. He seemed in a trance, as if reliving some long lost memory. His eyes were unfocussed; his fingers still lightly touched her skin.

"Who did this to you Emma," Snape asked as calmly as he could.

It was her turn not to answer. She closed up like a clam, not having the strength to say his name. Snape finally looked up at her, his eyes burning. "Who-did-this-to-you," he drawled.

Emma began to shake, tears spilled from her eyes. Snape's hold on her arm began to build in strength. His face lost the stoned look and became angered.

"Answer me!" he shouted at her.

She jerked her arm from his hold and stumbled away from him. He matched her steps with his own, his hand reaching out to grab her again. What was he doing? What had gotten in to him? "Please," she begged as he grabbed her and shook her roughly.

"Tell me, tell me who did this," he asked again.

He was scaring her to the point that she was going to scream. It reminded her of what Connelly had done to her. He wouldn't stop shaking her, his eyes looking mad. Emma opened her mouth to scream, but something else entirely came out.

"Connelly, it was Connelly!" she cried.

As soon as his name fell from her lips, Snape pulled her towards him, holding her tightly. His arms snaked around her, supporting her as her legs went from beneath her. Her very strength seeped from her body as the truth was finally revealed.

"It is okay, Emma, I got you," Snape whispered in her ear.

Emma didn't care that Snape had just tricked her into telling him about Connelly. She didn't care that he had scared her into the truth. All that mattered to her was that she had told him and that he was still here. All she cared about was that he was still holding her, allowing her to lean on him for strength. Someone finally knew the truth about what was happening.

She was aware that Snape was shaking as well. His whole body felt tense and rigid, but he didn't let her go. Emma felt safe, if only for a moment, in Snape's arms. She would not think about the questions that would come once they got a hold of themselves. She would not think about the repercussions of Snape knowing about Connelly. It was enough that he was here with her, that's all she needed.

"What has he done to you," Snape asked after a while.

They were on the floor, their arms still wrapped around one another. Emma had to fight the tiredness, feeling herself wanting to sleep. She did not know how much time had passed since they arrived in the room, but she wasn't ready to leave, not yet.

"He's attacked me and-," the words dying out. At that moment, she was reminded of her parents and who they were. She was reminded of everything she had learned today.

"What is it?" Snape said as he drew away from her, looking her directly in the face. His eyes were so caring, his words so soft.

"M-My parents," she started before a sob took her under.

Snape waited patiently, his hand rising to wipe the tears away. She was not used to this side of Snape. Over the years he had been cold and distant. What had caused him to change? Was it the week he had spent watching her? Emma wasn't sure.

"I-I'll have to show you," Emma whispered.

Snape shook his head and they rose from the floor. His arm snaked around her shoulder, helping her to walk. Emma was thankful for she didn't feel she had the strength to move. They walked out of the Three Broomsticks into the crowd of people. Beside her, Snape stiffened, his eyes roaming the crowd. Emma could only suspect he was looking for Connelly that is if he believed her in the first place. It had not gone unnoticed that he had never said he believed her.

They came to the white building again and Emma faltered, knowing she would be met with the truth of who she was and where she came from again. Snape stopped, allowing her time to get herself together before continuing.

Soon, Snape was seated in front of the book, the name Brickerton on the cover. His eyes roamed over every page, his lips moving in silence. Emma stood behind him, not daring to take another look. She knew what was there and her heart couldn't take being confronted with the truth again.

"It can't be," Snape whispered.

His hands slammed the book shut, its echo causing the few people present to look over at Emma and Snape. Emma walked around the desk to look at Snape. He was staring ahead, his eyes seeing nothing. His hands were visible on the table and Emma noticed how they shook. "Keenan and Jessica Brickerton were your parents," he whispered.

Emma's face scrunched up in confusion. There was such sadness, such guilt in his voice that Emma was stunned. It was as if he were responsible for what happened. There was something he wasn't telling her, something he was holding in.

"Professor Snape?" Emma questioned.

His face crumbled with agony, his eyes roaming over the cover of the book. "I didn't know," he whispered more to himself than to Emma.

"Didn't know what?" Emma said with more force. She was starting to get a bad feeling about this. Something wasn't right. Snape was keeping something from her. "Didn't know what?" she said again.

He looked up at her, his face growing more pained by the minute. Snape opened his mouth to speak, but he never got the chance for there was another voice that cut into the moment.

"He didn't know you were the child the Dark Lord bonded to me that night."

Emma whipped around and saw Connelly standing before her. He was here and his words caused Emma to lose all hope she once had.

**Uh Oh! ;)**


End file.
